Deviant
by Clara Barton
Summary: AU. A group of young criminals are assigned community service. When they are struck by lightning, they develop superpowers and must decide whether to use them for good or evil. Inspired by Misfits.
1. Chapter 1

Warnings: Angst, violence, language, drug use, abuse, supernatural things, sex, yaoi, yuri, het. If you desperately need to know who is paired with who send me a message and I can tell you, but I'd rather you get to experience the evolution of the characters first.

A/N: Based on Misfits, but draws from X-Men, Smallville, and Heroes as well. These kids aren't the complete burnouts that the Misfits are, but they are NOT perfect angels. Be warned.

A/N #2: Thanks to the always amazing Cuzosu, more than a better and no less than a friend.

A/N#3: A special thanks to Snowdragon, who has been so encouraging and supportive since I first started writing here. Thank you for your advice, conversation, and general brilliance.

A/N#4: I'm sorry, very, very sorry that this is not ch. 19 of **Umbra**, but I'm kind of stuck and I don't want to ruin such an epic battle. Don't worry, it will be out soon.

**Deviant**

Chapter One

"Stop fidgeting."

Quatre winced at his father's sharp tone and then immediately tried to smooth out his features – he would just get yelled at for being weak if his father saw his reaction.

"My son," his father muttered. "MY son. My _son_."

"I'm sorry," Quatre said, not for the first time. He reached up and brushed his bangs out of his eyes. His father glared at the gesture. "Sorry," Quatre apologized again.

"Ridiculous waste of my time," Zayeed Winner said, also not for the first time that morning. "It goes without saying that I am beyond disappointed in you."

"Yes, father," Quatre said. He slunk down low in the passenger seat of his father's car as it pulled up to the police station. He looked out the window and saw that a ragtag group of young men and women were already assembled. He recognized a few of them, but several he had never seen before.

The day was bright and already, at nine in the morning, hot. If this was any other day Quatre would be preparing to spend the day at the lake, enjoying the weather.

"_My _son doing community service – I'm the laughing stock of the force."

"Father –"

"Do you have any idea how much trouble you have caused? For me? For the family? I have never been –"

"I'm sorry, Father, I have to go or I'll be late." He knew that interrupting his father would inevitably result in a harsher punishment, but at least it would be deferred.

"Hm. Very well. I expect to hear an excellent report on your behavior from Sergeant Une."

"Yes, Father." Quatre unfastened his seat belt and opened the car door. He got out and quickly closed it, not looking back as his father drove away.

"Who the hell has a cop drop them off for their community service?"

Quatre turned to see two people lounging on the grass lawn in front of the police station. They looked like they were sun bathing and not waiting to fulfill community service obligations. One, a petite, dark haired woman, regarded him over the rim of large sunglasses with amusement. She wore khaki shorts and a tight, faded t-shirt that looked like it came from the boy's section at a store. The other, a lanky, slender man with unruly bangs and a long braid of chestnut hair was dressed in light blue cargo shorts, sandals, and a short sleeved button up shirt that was unbuttoned, revealing tan skin and a gray wife beater. Quatre felt confident that he had seen the man before, but he was positive he wasn't a student at the college.

"It was my father," Quatre explained.

"Your Dad is a _cop_?" The man laughed. "Bet he's _very _proud of you!"

Quatre felt his face flush in shame.

"Leave him alone, Duo. He's delicate." The girl said with a smirk.

Quatre decided to ignore both of them and instead marched into the police station.

Clarkson was a college town, and it was a small, tight knit community. Quatre knew each of the police officers on staff and couldn't begin to count how many of their kid's birthday parties he had been to over the years.

When he walked in he had to fight the urge to duck his head when the officer on front desk duty that day, Dorothy Catalonia, looked up at him.

"Morning Quatre," she said brightly, but her smirk was tinged with disdain.

"Dorothy," he greeted her.

"Sergeant Une is gathering the… delinquents in the second briefing room. I'm sure you know the way."

"Thank you," Quatre bit out and walked away before she could taunt him further.

He took a seat in the middle of the still mostly empty briefing room. He had learned not to sit in the front – he would be accused of being a kiss ass - or in the back – he would be forced to move up closer.

Quatre was surprised to notice a few of his classmates at Clarkson College were seated in the briefing room.

Heero Yuy _was _sitting at the back of the room, and the look on his face suggested that if he was asked to move forward he would do so – but only after he punched a few people on his way. Quatre didn't think the other man was violent, but he always wore such a pronounced scowl on his face that nearly everyone stayed away from him and left him to do his own thing. He was a sophomore math major, and one of the smartest people Quatre had ever met.

Quatre had no idea how or why Heero was in community service. As far as he knew, Heero devoted his life to homework, the cross country team, and his work study running computer labs at night.

He knew that recently there had been an incident involving several students and a few townies getting into a fight at a local bar, and that a few of those involved had been given court mandated community service, but he seriously doubted that Heero had been part of that.

Trant Clark, on the other hand, Quatre fully suspected had been involved in the bar fight. The junior played on the soccer team with Quatre, and he was legendary for his quick temper. Quatre remembered a game when Trant had disagreed with several of the calls made by one of the sideline refs. After the game Trant had keyed the man's car and slashed the tires.

The look on Trant's face now, as he turned in his chair and sneered at Quatre, made it clear that he had no intention of taking this in stride and would definitely make this a living hell for everyone else involved.

"Quatre."

He turned at the sound of his name and gave Sergeant Une a wan smile.

She stood at the front of the room, her hair back in her customary pinned braids, and regarded him with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.

"Sergeant Une."

"I was very surprised to see _your _name on the list of criminals this morning."

Quatre winced at that. Because, as his father had taken great pains to remind him – constantly – he was now a criminal. He had been convicted of a crime and he now had a permanent record.

"I hear from Ralph that you put on _quite _the show, however."

He winced again. Ralph Kurt had been the officer to arrest him after his… incident.

She shook her head but left him alone as the rest of the criminals filtered into the room.

"Good morning," she said once the small room was nearly full. "And welcome to the first day of your court mandated community service. Due to a rash of incidents involving both college students and locals, Chief Winner felt it best to mix your service. Hopefully you will be inspired to get over yourselves and _not _become a threat to society."

She looked out over the room, her green gaze sharp and a tight frown on her face indicating that she felt all of this to be a waste of her time.

"Over the next few weeks – months for some of you – you will meet here every Saturday morning at nine and you will work until five."

"We don't get a lunch break?" Demanded Duo, the loudmouth Quatre had previously encountered.

"Yes," Une corrected. "From noon until one. If you are late – either in the morning or after lunch – I have the right to add on additional hours to your existing sentence. If you fail to complete your assigned duties, I have the right to add on additional hours to your existing sentence. If you engage in any other criminal behavior while carrying out this sentence, I have the right to add on additional hours to your existing sentence. If –"

"What if I sneeze?" Duo interrupted.

Une's gaze turned icy, but she refused to answer the question.

"Today you will all be cleaning up the Maxwell Park. The entire thing is a disaster zone. The fountain, the playground, the sandbox, the picnic area – all of it will be spotless by the time you are done today." She looked at her watch. "Now –"

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry that I'm late!"

Quatre turned his head at the familiar voice.

Relena Darlian was standing at the back of the room. Her long hair was loose around her shoulders and she was wearing a light sundress that made it hard for Quatre to remember to breathe.

"Ms. Darlian, how good of you to join us," Une snapped.

Relena gave her a dazzling smile.

"Of course," she replied.

"As I was saying," Une continued and Quatre reluctantly turned away from Relena, "you have each been assigned work coveralls. Do not damage them. Do not deface them. They have been laid out in the men's and women's locker rooms. Quatre, please show the boys where to change. Ladies, please follow me."

Quatre stood with a sigh.

"Follow me," he said and started to walk out. He led the way to the men's locker room. Once inside he grabbed an orange coverall from the pile by the door and moved to the far corner of the room to change. Before he could get very far, however, a fight broke out.

"Fucking whore," Trant muttered.

"Fucking dip shit," Duo shot back.

Quatre turned towards them.

"Stay the fuck away from me, your worthless piece of ass," Trant said to Duo.

"Me? You stay the hell away from _me _you –"

"No one cares."

Wufei Chang pushed between the two men and grabbed a coverall from the pile.

"Both of you are idiots. Just shut up and let's get this over with."

Quatre had to smirk at the looks of irritation on both Duo and Trant's faces.

Wufei had that effect on people. He had been in Quatre's English Composition course last year, and Quatre still remembered the day when Wufei stood up, called the professor an idiot, and proceeded to go up to the front of the room and correct all of the grammatical errors in the 'perfect' writing sample that the professor had just projected onto the chalkboard.

Everyone else managed to collect their coveralls without incident.

Quatre had to roll the sleeves of his own up several times, but otherwise his fit fairly well. He felt bad for the tall, silent man beside him. His orange coveralls were several inches too short and the fabric stretched tightly across his broad shoulders and fit snugly around his hips. He looked vaguely familiar to Quatre, but he couldn't place him.

"I swear to God, Trant, keep your fucking hands to yourself or–"

Quatre looked over to see that Duo and Trant were at it again. Duo had pulled off his shorts and shirt, and was standing there in only his boxers and the grey wife beater. Trant, however, was fully dressed and was actually leering at Duo.

Duo was slightly shorter than Trant, and definitely less muscled, but he shoved the other man back against the lockers when Trant moved towards him.

Quatre looked around and saw that _everyone _was staring at the two. Even Heero was scowling at them.

"Stay the fuck away from me," Duo hissed. He shoved Trant again and stepped away.

Trant lunged forward and punched Duo in the mouth.

"Don't tell me what to do, you stupid cunt."

Duo seemed frozen by the words. His face drained of color and his arms dropped down to his side. After a moment he turned away and angrily pulled on his coveralls. He zipped them halfway up, rolled the top down, and tied the arms around his waist.

"Don't touch me again," Duo warned, his voice quiet and serious. He walked out of the locker room.

"I do _not _deserve this shit," Wufei muttered. He stalked out of the dressing room.

Quatre followed behind him, the quiet man and Heero both leaving as well. A moment later Trant joined them out in the hall. The girls were already there.

"What happened to your face, Mr. Maxwell?" Une asked.

Quatre looked over to see Duo swipe at the blood on his lips.

"I tripped on my shoelaces," Duo muttered.

Quatre looked down to see that Duo was still wearing sandals. Une followed his gaze, but instead of calling Duo on it she just sighed and walked away.

"Very well, everyone, follow me to the bus."

The ride over to Maxwell Park was quick and mercifully without incident.

When they arrived at the park, Une passed out trash bags and rubber gloves.

"You have two and a half hours before the lunch break. I expect to see significant progress made in that time."

With that, she got back on the bus and drove away.

"Fucking ridiculous," Duo muttered before walking away. The girl he had been with earlier followed him.

Quatre looked around and spotted Relena moving towards the shaded picnic area. He walked in her direction.

"Hey," she greeted him when he stepped up to her side.

"Hi," he replied with a smile.

"I'm glad that I'm not the only one stuck doing this," Relena said with a sigh. Instead of moving to pick up the trash around the picnic tables she sat down on one of them.

Quatre looked over his shoulder at the other six men and women. It looked like only Wufei and Heero were making an effort to pick up trash. Trant was kicking a can around near the fountain, Duo and the girl were sitting on top of the monkey bars smoking, and the tall, quiet guy was just standing, staring at the duck pond.

"There are other people here," he pointed out.

"Not _normal _people," Relena pointed out. "You and I – God, Quatre, we shouldn't be here dealing with this! Ugh, I have _such _better things to do with my Saturdays than this. And so do you! What about soccer? Don't you and Trant have practice or something?"

Quatre shrugged.

"Coach H is making me come in on Sundays to make up for it – I guess he's doing the same with Trant. It won't really be a problem until the season starts in a few weeks. Two games overlap with my community service."

She shook her head.

"Completely lame."

"What did you do, anyway?" He asked her. "To get community service?" He had always pictured Relena as the perfect girl – smart, pretty, funny. He had a hard time looking at her in the orange coveralls. It just didn't fit his mental image of her. Although, she did manage to somehow make the coveralls look sexy. She had left them unzipped enough that he could see the curve of her breasts, and she had rolled the sleeves up to her elbows.

She shrugged and gave him a flirty smile.

"Same old, same old," she said, which was no answer at all.

"What did _you _do?"

He blushed and looked away.

"Come on, out with it, Quatre!" She poked him in the side.

"I was convicted of public indecency," he muttered.

She arched an eyebrow at him.

"What does that even mean?"

He sighed. "I was drunk with some of my fraternity brothers and we went to the construction zone – where they bulldozed down the old Maxwell church and are building the new dorms? – and I climbed up the framework."

"How is this public indecency?"

"Well, I got to the top but I couldn't get down. So the cops had to ah, assist me down."

"Still missing the indecent part…"

"I was also naked."

Her blue eyes went wide and she looked at him disbelievingly for a minute before she burst out laughing.

"You – oh, Quatre! That's priceless! I wish I'd been there to see that!"

He shook his head at her mirth. He couldn't decide it he should be offended by how humorous she found the situation.

"Any chance of a repeat performance?" She asked with a wink.

"Um, not in public, no. My father made it _very _clear that I'm already a complete disgrace and that if I do anything like that again he will stop paying my tuition."

Relena frowned.

"It was just a prank… something kids do. He shouldn't take it so seriously. _My _father didn't care that I got arrested…"

"That's because you're perfect," Quatre pointed out and then instantly blushed. He had _not _meant to say that out loud.

"Oh really?" Relena asked with a smirk.

He shrugged.

"I don't know. I guess. I should… pick up some trash or something."

"Suit yourself." She pulled out her cell phone. "I'm going to catch up on Farmville."

He frowned but walked away, determined to fulfill his obligations – at least some of them.

He started to pick up the larger pieces of trash near the playground. As he neared Duo and the girl he sniffed the air. They were definitely _not _smoking cigarettes.

"Are you two getting high?" He demanded.

They looked down at him.

"Chill, Junior Deputy," Duo said around the joint in his mouth.

"But – we could get in trouble!" He realized, as he said it, just how pathetic he sounded.

The girl arched an eyebrow at him. Like Duo she wore her coverall top and arms tied around her waist.

"I think we already _are _in trouble," she pointed out. "Want a hit?" She took the joint out of Duo's mouth and waved it in Quatre's direction.

He instinctively backed away.

Duo laughed.

"Don't bother, Hilde, he's just going to say no!" He took it back from her and sucked in a quick drag before she jerked it away and put it between her own lips.

"We should be working," Quatre reprimanded them. "This park is a mess."

"Because you shit head rich kids get drunk and trash it," Duo pointed out.

Quatre frowned, but he couldn't argue the point. He _knew _that this park was a favorite late night hangout with several fraternities on campus.

"You can't blame everything on Clarkson College," Quatre said. He had met townies like Duo – who hated all college students on sight and would rather the town go back to being a poor mill town than have to deal with the students and professors who they viewed as snotty outsiders.

"Sure I can," Duo growled. "Thanks to Clarkson College I get the pleasure of dealing with assholes like Trant on a daily basis."

"You shouldn't provoke him," Quatre said. "Just ignore him. Bullies –"

"I didn't fucking provoke him! This isn't some playground fight. Trant is a fucking psycho and he needs to learn that no means fucking _no_."

Quatre frowned. He would be the first to admit that Trant had anger management issues, but surely Duo had done something to the soccer player. He was also confused about what Duo was saying – it was like what you said to a date who wanted to take things farther than you did.

His eyes widened in sudden realization. Suddenly the locker room fight made a _lot _more sense.

Duo snorted.

"Jesus Christ, _now _you get it."

"But – Trant isn't gay!"

"Um, yeah, he sure as fuck is. And he's a homophobe. _Lovely _combination."

"Not to mention he has the manners of a Nazi," Hilde chimed in.

"Too right you are," Duo agreed.

"Wait, he hit on you?"

"He _hit _me," Duo corrected, "after I told him that there was no way in hell I would _ever _sleep with him. Couldn't _pay _me enough to fuck that ape." He shuddered. "He's hot, sure, but I dunno… something about being called a cunt just isn't a turn on for me."

Quatre winced at hearing that word again and looked at Hilde. She looked back at him, clearly amused by his reaction.

"You really _are _a delicate little flower, aren't you?" She asked.

"I am _not _delicate. I'm just –"

"Civilized. Rich. Sheltered. A virgin." Duo supplied when Quatre faltered.

"Look, I'm sorry that the park was wrecked by college students. But it is our _job _to clean it up." Quatre decided to change the subject quickly.

"It's our _punishment_," Hilde corrected.

"Either way, you two should get to work before Une comes back and sees the two of you just sitting here getting high."

"Damage is _so _already done, my friend," Duo said, but he rolled backwards and flipped off the monkey bars. Quatre was a little impressed by the smooth motion and the easy landing. Duo grinned at him.

He reached up and Hilde jumped down into his arms.

"C'mon, fancy face," Duo said to her, "let's clean out the damn fountain. Maybe we can score enough change to buy lunch."

Quatre opened his mouth to reprimand them – that change was usually collected once a month by the library – but decided that it wasn't worth the effort.

"I'm surrounded by delinquents," he decided.

* * *

><p>By the time Une drove back up at noon, Quatre had bullied or cajoled everyone – even Relena – into picking up litter. They hadn't made much of an impact, but at least they were all <em>working <em>when Une stepped out of the bus and surveyed them with disdain.

"Found twelve dollars in change," Duo gleefully told Quatre as he and Hilde boarded the bus. "Thanks for the great idea."

"I did _not _tell you to –" Quatre snapped his jaw shut when Une looked his way.

Once all eight of them were aboard the bus Une drove them back to the police station.

"I expect to see each of you back here by one," she said sternly. "If you are late –"

"We get cookies, we know," Duo said.

Une glared at him but he just grinned back.

Quatre shook his head at the other man's antics.

"You can buy me lunch after I change," Relena said to him.

"Ah, thank you," Quatre responded.

He watched Hilde and Duo walk off, still half dressed in their community service coveralls. Everyone else went back inside the police station to change before dispersing to find their own lunches.

Relena met him out front a few minutes later, back in her very thin sundress.

"You look really nice," he told her.

"Well I _had _to dress up for community service in case I met any good looking bad boys," she flirted.

"And have you?" He couldn't help but ask.

"Hmhmm." She grinned at him and then nodded past his shoulder.

Quatre turned with a frown and saw her looking at Heero Yuy as the other man walked away from them.

"Heero?"

"Yeah. I've had him in a few of my classes but he never talks to me. I figure… here, with no competition, he will _definitely _see what he's been missing." She grinned at him. "Don't you think?"

Quatre didn't bother to respond.

"Come on, let's go to the Soda Shop."

The next forty-five minutes were torture for Quatre. He listened to Relena go on and on about Heero while she only picked at the salad she had ordered.

He noticed Duo and Hilde sitting in the front of the deli, and they carried on a continuous conversation as they ate, laughing loudly and stealing food off of each other's plates. He felt a spurt of envy. He wanted that – he wanted a girl friend that he could enjoy lunch with. Someone who liked _him _as much as he liked her.

He had thought Relena liked him, at least a little, and had been flirting with him.

"Why are you telling me all of this?" He finally interrupted her mid-sentence as she waxed poetic about the sight of Heero in spandex running shorts.

She blinked.

"I thought we were friends."

"Well, yeah." In truth they were little more than acquaintances. Relena's sorority often had mixers with his fraternity, and they usually hung out together during those, but it wasn't as though they had a lot of classes together or went to grab coffee on a regular basis.

"Well, you're gay, so I figured I could get your advice on –"

"I am _not _gay!"

She gave him a patronizing look.

"Quatre, it's okay."

"No, it's not okay, Relena. I am _not _gay. I like girls – I like you!"

She reached out and held his hand.

"And I like you, Quatre. I've always wanted a gay friend. If you don't want to come out to everyone else, I understand, but you don't have to hide who you are from me. I like you just the way you are."

Quatre opened his mouth, but realized that all he wanted to do was yell at her. He pulled his hand away, stood up, and walked out. He was furious, but had no idea how to work off his anger.

He started walking back to the police station, fuming every step of the way.

He was surprised to see Wufei sitting on the grass outside of the police station, but wasn't surprised to see Meilin Long, his girlfriend, sitting beside him. Ever since the two had started dating over winter break last year they were inseparable. They had moved off campus this year, into one of the new apartments near campus, and Quatre saw them around the small town all the time, always side by side. He would have thought it was the perfect relationship, except that they argued _all _of the time.

"Hey, Quatre," Meilin greeted him.

"Hi," he growled.

She frowned.

"Everything okay?"

"No, everything is _not _okay." He sat down on the grass across from them.

"What happened?" Meilin asked. Wufei rolled his eyes. "What? He's my friend. I want to know what happened."

"Maybe he doesn't want to talk about it," Wufei said to her.

"If he doesn't then he _won't_." She turned to him. "Well?"

"Relena thinks I'm gay."

They were both silent for a moment and then exchanged looks. Meilin, then Wufei, started to laugh.

"I'm not!" He practically shouted.

"I know," Wufei assured him.

"Yeah, it's okay, we know," Meilin added.

"Because it's obvious, right? That I'm straight?"

Meilin giggled.

"Yes, very obvious."

He glared at her.

"No, really. I never, not for one moment, thought you were gay. Okay – one moment. The Halloween party last year when you dressed up like William Shakespeare. But aside from that, never for one moment."

"What's wrong with dressing up like Shakespeare? It was a famous people in history themed party!"

"Right, but you wore tights."

Quatre looked to Wufei for support.

"I didn't think it was gay," Wufei assured him.

Meilin rolled her eyes.

"Whatever. Okay, I've got to get to work. You two manly men enjoy the rest of your community enslavement." She winked at them and then gathered up her lunchbox and left.

"I'm not gay," Quatre repeated, one last time, just to make it clear.

Wufei rolled his eyes.

"I _know_. Now come on, let's get back in to our oh-so fashionable orange coveralls."

* * *

><p>By mid-afternoon Quatre's enthusiasm for cleaning up the park had waned. He had found countless used condoms and such an array of vomit and beer cans that he almost swore to never drink again. It was completely disgusting, and he was starting to agree with Duo's assumption that Clarkson students were to blame for everything wrong.<p>

"It's too hot to work," Relena complained to him when he stopped to sit under the shade for a few minutes.

He glared at her. _She _had been lounging under a tree for the last hour and had no excuse to be complaining.

"We should go skinny dipping," she suggested.

"It's broad daylight," he pointed out, but she wasn't even looking at him. Her gaze was focused on Heero, who had stopped to wipe sweat from his forehead. At some point the math major had tied the top of his coveralls around his waist, and was now using the hem of his shirt to wipe his face, exposing his muscled abs.

Quatre rolled his eyes.

"So maybe just swimming," Relena corrected. She started to unzip her coveralls.

"Relena! That duck pond is only a few feet deep – and it's… it's filled with ducks!"

She smirked at him.

"Then I'll just cool off in the fountain." She stepped out of her coveralls and Quatre felt like passing out at the sight of her in nothing but her pink, lacy underwear.

Completely unashamed, she walked over to the fountain and stepped in to the two-feet of water and then danced under the spray of the water that fell from the large dish on top, several feet above her head.

She giggled loudly, clearly trying to draw the attention of someone.

Quatre shook his head. He wanted to look away, but he was completely transfixed by the sight of her.

"See, you aren't gay."

He turned to see Wufei standing beside him. The Chinese man smirked.

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, you're the only guy watching her," Wufei pointed out.

Quatre looked around, and sure enough, Heero, Duo, Trant, and the silent guy were all completely uninterested in Relena. In fact, only Hilde and Quatre seemed to be paying her any attention at all.

"Why aren't _you _watching her?" Quatre asked.

Wufei scowled.

"I _have _a girlfriend. And Relena is completely ridiculous. I see no reason to encourage her with attention."

Quatre opened his mouth to defend her but then shrugged. Wufei was right, he knew.

"You should join the other whores and get naked in the fountain, Maxwell," Trant called out suddenly.

Quatre groaned when Duo dropped his trash bag and started towards the other man.

"You should join the other single-celled organisms and go drown in the fucking pond, asshole," Duo shot back.

Wufei and Quatre started forward. He saw Hilde move towards the two men as well, but Heero and the quiet man stayed back.

"I'm tired of having to deal with you, you faggot!"

Duo shoved Trant away from him.

"And I'm tired of having to deal with _you_, you hypocritical idiot!" Duo growled in frustration. "Why can't you just leave me the fuck alone?"

"Because you annoy the shit out of me, you little –"

"Stop fighting!" Quatre yelled at them. "This is stupid! We're going to be stuck together for the next few weeks! You should both get _over _yourselves!"

They turned to glare at him.

"Listen, princess, mind your own business!" Trant shouted.

"Princess?" Quatre echoed.

"Yeah, princess. That's what me and the other guys call you!" Trant did a dainty little walk and then curtsied to Quatre. "Because that's how you act! Always whining about us getting along and sharing our emotions. It's fucking _gay_, princess!"

"Argh!" Quatre had had _enough _of being called gay today. He charged at Trant and tackled the other man to the ground. "I am _not _gay!" He punched Trant in the nose, feeling incredibly satisfied when the other man howled in pain. "And even if I was it wouldn't matter!" He punched his unprotected stomach. "You are such – " he trailed off.

The sky had been cloudless all morning and afternoon, with only the bright sun shining down on them. However, very suddenly, the sky had transformed into one massive, roiling storm cloud.

Trant used Quatre's distraction to push him away.

"What the fuck?" Duo said, looking up at the sky as well.

"We should get under some shelter," Wufei suggested when a bolt of white lightning leapt from the clouds and into the trees to the north. Thunder boomed immediately.

Another bolt struck, this time near the duck pond.

Relena, still in the fountain, shrieked in alarm and climbed out. Together all eight ran towards the covered picnic tables.

A few feet away from them, however, a bolt of lightning struck again, burning into the earth and momentarily dazing Quatre.

"Shit!" Duo shouted. He had tackled Hilde to the ground to keep her from being hit by it.

Everyone seemed frozen in place, terrified to go towards the picnic tables.

"What –" Trant started to say.

He never finished the sentence.

Quatre barely had time to breathe before a flash of blue light and intense heat struck them all. He thought he screamed – he thought he could hear the others scream – but it might have been the sound of his blood roaring in his ears as it boiled from the heat.

And then he felt nothing.

* * *

><p>"Get up!"<p>

Quatre reacted instantly, snapping his eyes open and jerking upright at the sound of Une's voice.

The police officer was standing in front of him, glaring down.

He looked around and saw that the others were also sprawled on the ground. The area around them was a large, burnt circle of grass, but none of them looked at all the worse for wear.

"What happened?" Relena asked. She was still clothed in only her underwear, and Une's gaze narrowed at her.

"Put your clothes on _now_. Nap time is over! Everyone gather your trashbags and get back on the bus. All of you are in _severe _trouble_."_

Quatre frowned and slowly got to his feet. Aside from feeling a little dazed, as though he had just woken from a nap, he felt normal. Not at all as though he had just been struck by lightning. He looked at the others.

Most of them were frowning or scowling in confusion, but no one spoke up as they gathered their things and piled back onto the bus.

Quatre wound up sitting at the back, sharing a seat with the tall, quiet man.

_I should have died_.

Quatre frowned and turned to the side. It sounded like the man beside him had spoken, but he was staring straight ahead.

"I'm sorry?" Quatre asked. "Did you say something?"

The man's eyes turned to him, but he didn't move his head.

"No."

Quatre frowned.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

The man looked away again.

_My life is meaningless. Why didn't I just die?_

"No one's life is meaningless," Quatre said, before he could stop himself.

The man jerked away, as though he had been slapped.

"What did you say?" The man asked.

"I said, no one's life is meaningless. You shouldn't say that yours is."

"I didn't," the man insisted.

Quatre frowned.

"You did. I heard you."

He shook his head, but his green eyes were wide with alarm.

"No."

_I was thinking it_.

Quatre's jaw dropped. He was looking straight at the other man, and he had definitely not opened his mouth. Unless he was the world's most skilled ventriloquist, there was no way that he had spoken.

But Quatre had heard him – it had been his voice and – Quatre suddenly felt sick. He had _heard _him. He had heard the other man's thoughts.

_How did he know what I was thinking?_

The other man moved closer to the window, away from Quatre.

"This is not good," Quatre muttered to himself. "So not good."


	2. Chapter 2

Warnings: Angst, violence, language, drug use, abuse, supernatural things, sex, yaoi, yuri, het. If you desperately need to know who is paired with who send me a message and I can tell you, but I'd rather you get to experience the evolution of the characters first.

A/N: Based on Misfits, but draws from X-Men, Smallville, and Heroes as well. These kids aren't the complete burnouts that the Misfits are, but they are NOT perfect angels. Be warned.

A/N #2: Thanks to the always amazing Cuzo, more than a beta and no less than a friend.

A/N#3: A special thanks to Snowdragonct, who has been so encouraging and supportive since I first started writing here. Thank you for your advice, conversation, and general brilliance. Also, you are a badass AND a classy lady.

A/N #4: Warning: Duo's kind of an asshole this chapter… and will be for a few more before he gets himself some sweet, sweet loving. From someone… who I will not name.

**Deviant**

Chapter Two

Duo needed to get laid. Badly.

It had been months since his last relationship had ended, and while he wasn't in the habit of one night stands, he was contemplating it with more seriousness each passing day.

Ever since last Saturday he had felt off: jittery and clumsy when he normally wasn't. He found himself walking into things, tripping, and moving too fast – which usually ended when he did one of the previous things. It wasn't just his feet either, but his hands as well. He would find himself reaching for something and, perhaps misjudging the distance or his coordination, knocking it over more often than not. It was almost as though his reflexes had gotten faster – much, much faster.

He knew it wasn't physically possible for him to have, suddenly and without explanation, developed faster than human reflexes. Getting hit by lightning had been a horrific experience, and Duo decided that the Event - as he and Hilde had taken to calling it – combined with getting high more frequently than usual had just messed with his brain.

So, on Tuesday, he decided to go cold turkey for the rest of the week – no more pot, no more alcohol. It didn't help with his reflexes, and if anything seemed to make them worse. He felt full of energy, to the point where, on Thursday morning, he had gotten up and gone for a run – the first voluntary run of his life – and after three hours of running by the lake he _still _felt like he could go three more.

Sex was what he needed. The trouble with that, of course, was that he lived in Clarkson.

The college town was liberal to the point that Duo often had to roll his eyes at the town council's efforts to embrace diversity. While Duo had never been faced with anger or aggression from the other locals, he also had not been asked out on many dates. By his reckoning there were five other gay men in town – two happily married for three years now with two adopted kids, the head librarian at the college, a philosophy professor at the college, and Duo himself. He didn't count the college students – he had dated one, once, and the train wreck that had resulted was bad enough for him to swear off of them for life. Likewise, he had no interest in breaking up a marriage – nor did the two men have much interest in _him _except for the three times they had paid him to clean their pool naked, before they had adopted their children; the librarian at the college was nearly sixty, and Duo simply did _not _have a thing for guys old enough to be his grandfather; and the philosophy professor, while undeniably hot, had only ever exchanged coolly polite thank yous with Duo when he bagged his groceries at the natural food market and a few, amused raised eyebrows when Duo tried to casually flirt with him or carry his bags to his car.

So Clarkson was a homosexual wasteland. Every once in a while, when Duo got lonely enough, he would make the forty-five minute drive south to the city and go to a club. He hadn't done so since before his last boyfriend, and he almost always regretted whatever antics he got into – but by Friday night he truly was desperate for some kind of relief.

Hilde worked late on Fridays, and in any case hated to go clubbing, so after his shift ended at the hardware store, Duo headed home, showered, and took the bus into the city on his own.

Duo spent the ride trying not to feel too slutty, but dressed as he was, in skintight black jeans and a sleeves black t-shirt, with a dash of stolen eye liner from Hilde, it was impossible not to. Especially when a four year old girl toddled over to him and insisted on reading from her story book while her mother glared daggers at Duo, clearly waiting for him to make a move and scar her dear child for life.

When the bus finally reached the city at nine, he practically dove over the girl in his effort to escape her and her angry mother.

He went to a few different clubs, trying to subdue his senses through alcohol, throbbing dance music, and strobe lights so that he would be calm enough to approach anyone to hit on them.

By eleven he found himself at Bar 316, and after downing his fourth Jack and Coke, was able to wind his way onto the dance floor and finally start to enjoy himself.

Duo was hyper aware of the lights pulsing, shifting colors moving in time with the deep throbbing of the bass heavy music.

After only a few minutes of dancing by himself, Duo felt the press of another man behind him, hips arching against his ass and hands snaking around to run over Duo's chest.

He turned, a little impressed by the confidence of whoever was feeling him up, and wasn't disappointed by what he saw.

The other man clearly felt the same, because he shifted his grip to squeeze Duo's ass and ground his pelvis against Duo's.

"I'm Alex," he shouted into Duo's ear over the music.

"Duo," he responded while doing his own share of groping.

Alex looked to be his age, and his black leather pants and tight, blue v-neck t-shirt looked painted onto his body.

They danced together until the song ended, although their dancing was more like dry humping, and Duo felt the pleasant buzz of alcohol and arousal working through his system.

As the song changed to something slower, Alex started to guide them off the dance floor, and when they were away from the crowd, and kissed Duo.

_Finally_, Duo felt like shouting. He kissed Alex back, savoring the taste of beer on his breathe, eager for the contact of another man.

"Want to go somewhere more private?" Alex asked breathlessly.

Duo could only nod as he kissed the other man again.

Alex pulled away and smirked at Duo before leading him outside of the club. Once outside, however, he kissed Duo again and grabbed his ass almost possessively.

Walking on uneven, broken sidewalk while simultaneously groping and kissing a near stranger was a greater challenge than Duo had anticipated.

Finally, however, Duo and Alex managed to stumble their way into the alley behind the club and Alex shoved Duo against the brick wall before reaching down to unzip his jeans and pull out his cock.

Alex kissed him again, nipping his lower lip with his teeth before he pulled away and knelt down in front of Duo.

"What –oh fuck!" Duo moaned loudly when Alex literally swallowed him whole.

He buried his fingers in the other man's short hair and tried to will himself to focus on only the sensation of Alex's hot mouth wrapped around him. At first, it was easy to do – it felt so incredibly good and it had been SO incredibly long for Duo – but it got harder to do after only a few heartbeats.

Once again, it seemed as if Duo's reflexes and his senses went into overdrive. He became acutely aware of the sounds of the alley – the rustle of rats in some distant garbage pail, the steady drip of water from a rooftop, and the moaning of another man.

The last made Duo look around for the source of the sound. It wasn't him – and there was no way that Alex was making THAT much noise with his mouthful.

His eyes settled further down the alley, the spill of a dim streetlight just catching them.

It was a man in a suit, and kneeling in front of him was a slim man or boy with messy, dark hair.

"Jesus Christ," Duo muttered. He had been approaching orgasm, but now, greeted with the sight of two other men engaged in the same act of debauchery he and Alex were, he started to lose his enthusiasm.

His muttered exclamation must have carried, because the suited man jerked away from the other man and actually shoved him away. The suited man threw a few bills onto the other man's prone body and then took off down the alley, turning a corner and disappearing from Duo's sight.

Duo eased away from Alex by putting both hands on his shoulders and pushing him back.

"What? I thought you were close." Alex protested.

"Yeah, I – sorry." Duo tucked himself back into his jeans and zipped them back up. "Look, you're great and all, but I'm not a big fan of audiences and –"

Alex looked around and his eyes landed on the man who was just now getting to his feet. He snorted.

"Who? _Him_? He's just some whore. Now, c'mon." Alex reached out, but Duo swatted his hands away.

"No, seriously. I'm sorry."

Alex angrily got to his feet.

"Well, fuck you. I can't believe I wasted half an hour on you!" He stormed off, presumably back to the bar.

Duo debated walking away or checking to see if the other man was okay. When the suited guy had shoved him away, he had fallen backwards onto his shoulder and it had looked fairly painful.

With a sigh, Duo approached him.

"Hey, are you –wait. I know you."

The other man was brushing dirt off his clothes, but he took the time to glare at Duo from intense blue eyes.

"You're doing community service down in Clarkson."

The blue eyes flicked across Duo's face and latched onto his braid.

"Yes," the other man ground out.

Duo frowned. He had no idea what the man's name was – but Quatre, that prissy blonde kid, had seemed to know him. Relena too. So he had to be a student at Clarkson.

"I always knew that tuition at Clarkson was steep, but I didn't realize they'd expanded their work study programs to include hooking."

If possible, the blue glare turned even colder. A sudden crash of thunder and a distant flash of lightning illuminated the sky.

"Fuck you."

"Naw, I don't like to pay for it."

Somehow Duo managed to avoid the fist that came his way. He had no idea how – the man moved fast! – but one second he was in front of him, the next two feet away.

The man looked just as surprised as Duo was.

"Anyway," Duo said, eager to get the hell out of the alley, "I'll be seeing you around, sweet cheeks."

He strolled away casually, hands shoved in his pockets, but his heart was pumping with adrenaline. Even when it started to rain – a near monsoon like downpour that had him soaked in seconds – Duo couldn't be bothered.

He had never moved that fast before. Had never _seen _anyone move that fast before – outside of the _Matrix_ and _Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon_. But he wasn't Neo, and he wasn't a chick with a magic sword. So what the hell was going on?

And he hadn't gotten laid.

* * *

><p>The next morning Duo had to drag a very hung over Hilde out of bed and they barely made it to their community service on time.<p>

She had come stumbling in to their apartment a few hours after his own return at one, and together they had put a sizable dent in their liquor closet – technically their linen closet, but between them they owned five towels total and no spare sheets, so the closet was put to much better use stashing their liquor and recreational drugs.

Hilde had had a monumentally shitty week – probably worse than Duo's – she wouldn't tell him about it, except to say that it was 'fucking weird' and that she did not want to talk about it.

So neither of them were their best that Saturday morning.

When they strolled into the briefing room at 9:01, dressed in their fashionable orange coveralls and ready to shirk hard labor, the rest of the crew were already assembled and Officer Une was in mid-lecture. She stopped when they entered and her sharp gaze speared Duo.

"_You _are late."

"By like a minute," he pointed out. He looked around the room and spotted the man from last night – predictably scowling at him. "Hey there," he said and winked at him.

"Your lack of respect will _not _be tolerated."

Duo focused back on Une. He thought that she was taking his sixty second tardiness a little too seriously.

"Yeah, it's just, I had trouble tying my shoes, so –"

Her gaze instantly zeroed in on his sandaled feet.

"You will now complete an additional _two _hours of community service," she barked.

"Two –" he widened his eyes – "wow. That's definitely going to cut into my _True Blood_ marathon."

She stalked over to him, rage flashing in her eyes, and hauled back her hand.

Duo stared at that hand in confusion – was she actually going to hit him? He convinced himself that she wouldn't possibly, but even as he comforted himself with the thought that it had to be against the law, her slap landed on his left cheek and rocked him back on his heels.

His shock was mirrored on every face in the room.

Une blinked and then shook her head.

"What did you do?" Her voice was soft and gentle and it sent chills down Duo's spine.

"What did _I_ do?" Duo echoed. "You're the crazy bitch who just backhanded me!"

She shook her head slowly.

"No, no." She sighed. "Sit down?" It came out as a request.

Duo exchanged confused looks with Hilde.

"Please," Une added, and hearing the polite word from a woman who had looked ready to murder him terrified Duo into obeying.

He spent the briefing completely zoned out – fixated on Une's bipolar attitude and the fact that she had _hit _him.

They were shipped back to the park, with the gentle – disturbingly gentle – admonition to actually clean it up this time.

Just like last week, Duo and Hilde climbed the monkey bars and got high.

They spent the first few minutes in blissful silence, each lost in their own thoughts, but finally Hilde broke it.

"Duo, I'm really sorry about that."

He frowned at her.

"It's not that big of a deal – I made us as late as you did."

"No, not that. I'm sorry that I let her hit you."

Duo arched an eyebrow.

"You _let _her?"

She scowled and rolled their joint between her fingers before taking a long, meditative drag.

"I can see the future," she said in a rush as she exhaled.

"You _what_?"

"I saw it – I _saw _her hit you before she actually did it. I've been… seeing shit all week. I thought I'd just been smoking too much, but I stopped smoking and drinking after Monday afternoon and – holy shit, Duo, I can _see _the fucking future."

"Hil, let's get real here – I was kind of asking for that bitch to hit me. I mean, yeah, I didn't think she would actually do it, but it doesn't take Professor X to –"

"Duo, I'm being dead fucking serious here. I can see the future. That's why I've been so out of it this week." She drew in a deep breath. "Monday morning? When I went to work, I stopped by Mrs. Anderson's room and I saw her – I _saw _her die. Twenty minutes before it happened, I knew she was going to die."

"Hil, Mrs. Anderson was like a hundred and five and smoked two packs a day, again, it doesn't take –"

"Duo! You have to take this seriously! On Tuesday I saw a kitten get run over by a car – and then it actually happened three hours later when I was on my lunch break! I –"

"Hilde. Calm down. You –"

"And Professor X doesn't have precognition," she interrupted, her voice bitter.

"Huh?"

"You called me Professor X. But he doesn't have precognition – the ability to see the future. He's –"

"Oh my God, please tell me that you did _not _do research on the internet or some shit into super power –fuck me."

Things started to fall into place.

"Duo? What is it?"

"Hilde, when did you start to do this? See into the future or whatever?"

She frowned and shrugged.

"Monday? No, wait. Sunday night, actually."

"I've, ah, noticed some weird shit about myself recently too."

She arched an eyebrow.

"Duo, I'm not going to look at a rash on your dick again, that –"

"No, no. Not like that. I've noticed that I can move faster, and that I sense things more – like I can smell things more, or feel things more."

"Move faster?" she echoed. "Then why did you stand there like a moron when Une bitch slapped you?"

"I seriously didn't think she was going to do it. But –"

Hilde suddenly lashed out with her hand, aiming for his face. Duo ducked away from her so quickly he lost his balance and fell the five feet to the ground.

He landed on his back and stayed there.

She stared down at him.

"Aside from the clumsy as fuck part, that was kind of impressive," she said before gracefully hopping down and offering him a hand up.

"Right. Thanks. Anyway – I started noticing this shit on Sunday too – and I also tried to lay off the pot, but that's not what this is."

"No fucking kidding."

"Hil, I think this has something to do with the lightning strike."

"What, like… now we're super heroes?"

Duo snorted.

"Or super villains? I mean, we're fucking criminals, Hil. Look at us." He gestured at the park and the ragtag group.

Quatre was dutifully picking up every scrap of litter he could get his pristine hands on, Relena was sunbathing, her coveralls abandoned in favor of sporting a tank top and ridiculously short shorts, the Chinese guy seemed to be cursing the existence of all humanity as he dredged trash out of the fountain, Trant was busy kicking a metal trashcan off its post, the guy from last night was staring moodily at the gathering storm clouds on the horizon, and the good looking but creepily silent tall guy was just staring at a patch of grass.

Duo took the joint from Hilde's hand and took a long drag on it.

"If we're supposed to be super heroes, then the world is a lot more fucked up than even _I_ thought it was."


	3. Chapter 3

Warnings: Angst, violence, language, drug use, abuse, supernatural things, sex, yaoi, yuri, het. If you desperately need to know who is paired with who send me a message and I can tell you, but I'd rather you get to experience the evolution of the characters first.

A/N: Based on Misfits, but draws from X-Men, Smallville, and Heroes as well. These kids aren't the complete burnouts that the Misfits are, but they are NOT perfect angels. Be warned.

A/N #2: Thanks to the always amazing Cuzo, more than a beta and no less than a friend.

A/N#3: A special thanks to Snowdragonct, who has been so encouraging and supportive since I first started writing here. Thank you for your advice, conversation, and general brilliance. Also, you are a badass AND a classy lady.

**Deviant**

Chapter Three

Heero couldn't decide what to wear.

It made him feel like a complete idiot, standing there in front of his closet, staring at the clothes, waiting for _something_. Anything to tell him what to do.

Self-doubt was new for Heero. Regret, he was long familiar with. Shame he knew, anger was an old friend, and despair visited fairly often. But self-doubt was a very unwelcome addition to his negative emotions.

He prided himself on few things, but determination and commitment to his goals was one of them. When he decided to do something – he did it. He did not back down, he did not change the course just because some other way might be easier. If he accepted a challenge then he completed it.

And life had handed him plenty of challenges. He had risen to meet them all, and his survival could be attributed to the fact that he did _not _doubt himself. Until now.

Specifically, until that night last week when his third client of the night had shoved him into a puddle and ran away at the sight of Duo Maxwell.

It was bad enough that Heero was in community service, working off his debt to society after being stupid and arrogant enough to accept a job just outside Clarkson town limits instead of going to the city. Heero's rule, since he had started Clarkson last fall, had been to keep his work as far away from his education as possible. But, six weeks ago, he had agreed to meet a john at his boat, and as he was leaving, an off-duty cop had watched the john pay him and send him on his way with a slap to the ass.

Not only had he not gotten paid, but he now had a criminal record.

Now someone else in Clarkson knew about his job, and that someone was a townie who, by all indications, hated Clarkson College, its students, and had a temper and foul mouth that could be set off at any minute.

Heero didn't like his odds of keeping his work or his crime a secret from his peers, not with Duo around.

So he had begun to doubt himself.

His prostitution had kept him safe, fed, and out of the foster care system since he was fourteen. While he might regret certain aspects of the job, Heero had never doubted it to be the right choice – the money he earned paid for his education at Clarkson and he was saving as much as he could to pay for his graduate school. He had made himself a promise, last year, that as soon as he had enough to go to graduate school and start a new life he would be done. He was close to that goal – he calculated that by next summer he would have enough and would finally be able to walk away from the past.

But now he was starting to realize that that simply wasn't possible. His past would never leave him behind, and even thinking that it would had been fanciful. He had committed to this course, and this course would follow him forever now.

That knowledge wasn't especially helpful, and he still had no idea what to do about it, or Duo. Or what to wear.

It wasn't that Heero cared all that much for his appearance – even on the job the most effort he put into his looks was to finger comb his hair and make sure he wore clothes that were easy to put back on quickly – but he was trying to anticipate the weather.

For the last two weeks the weather in Clarkson had been wilder than any summer he could remember in his life. One moment it would be sunny and hot and the next freezing rain would start pelting the earth like knives. It didn't help that the weather seemed to mirror Heero's moods recently. Whenever he started to feel depressed, sure enough, it started to rain and the sky became a dark, violent maelstrom.

He was grateful that the two days this past week when he had been in a good mood the weather had cooperated. But with his current mood, he doubted the weather would be anything short of foul.

Sure enough, he looked outside his window and saw that there was a slow, steady drizzle.

At least there would not be a drought anytime soon.

He pulled on sneakers, jeans, a t-shirt, and a raincoat.

As he dressed he tried to shove all of his concerns to the back of his mind and gear himself up for the ordeal that was community service.

Getting struck by lightning the first week had been a freakish, unbelievable experience, but Heero would almost rather have it happen again than have to be faced with Duo's smirking, taunting face as he had been last week.

He left his dorm room and walked the half mile to the police station, his mood growing darker every step of the way. He hated bullies and he hated that he was actually AFRAID of what Duo would do with his information.

It wasn't as though he had any kind of social life, or even friends. But he had acquaintances, classmates, and professors who he respected. He had been a social pariah all of his life, but academe was his sanctuary and Duo Maxwell had the power to make it his worst nightmare.

By the time he reached the police station the drizzle of rain had turned into a steady downpour. That didn't seem to bother Duo and his friend, however. The two of them were sitting on a bench in front of the police station, casually lounging against the wet surface and acting as though they were enjoying a sunny day by the lake.

Duo had his head back, catching rain in his mouth, and the girl was stretched out, her feet across his lap and her eyes closed, as though she was napping.

They looked so at ease, so comfortable with each other and without a care in the world.

Heero quickly squashed his feeling of envy. Bad enough that Duo could ruin his life, he wasn't about to start envying the burnout _his _life. Maybe he had a friend, and maybe he had an amazing sense of equilibrium that just allowed him to take anything in stride, but he was still an asshole.

He watched as Duo checked his watch and reacted to the time. He sat up, upsetting the girl's balance. Remarkably, as the girl started to fall off the bench, Duo managed to catch her, moving quicker than Heero would have thought possible, and deposited her on her feet.

"Thanks," she said to him.

"No problem, Hilde my love," he draped an arm around her shoulders. "But we should get inside before Une goes psycho on me again – unless, have you seen anything I should know about?"

Heero wondered at the strange conversation, but they walked further away before he could hear Hilde's response.

When he stepped into the locker room a few moments later he wasn't surprised to see most of the other delinquents assembled and in the process of changing. He exchanged a nod of greeting with Wufei before walking to his own locker to change.

It seemed that Duo had decided to avoid any proximity to Trant and he abandoned his old locker and moved to one on the back row, a few feet away from the corner locker that Heero had claimed.

Duo looked completely soaked by the rain, and Heero allowed himself a moment of smug satisfaction when the other man pulled off his t-shirt and threw it into the locker with a solid, wet smack.

The moment ended, however, when Duo started to pull off the rest of his clothes.

Heero had spent a fair amount of time around naked men, and it had been relatively easy to train himself to not judge their bodies or care one way or another how attractive they were. But when Duo pulled off his jeans and stood beside Heero in nothing more than a pair of thin, clingy boxer briefs, all of that training went out of the window.

Duo's skin was lightly tanned and the golden color showed off his lean frame. He had faint, wiry muscle definition and a firm, sculpted ass that made Heero momentarily forget to breathe. It seemed ridiculously cruel for someone that annoying to be _that _handsome.

There was a tattoo just above his heart, two lines of black text that were hard for Heero to decipher while trying to look inconspicuous.

As Duo stepped into his jumpsuit and started to zip it up he turned and caught Heero staring.

Instead of calling him on it, Duo just arched and eyebrow and then slowly unzipped the jumpsuit back down to his waist. He pulled it open, displaying his chest for Heero's perusal.

He used the opportunity to read the words over Duo's heart. _Requiem æternam dona eis, Domine. _He made a mental note to look up the phrase.

"Enjoying the show?" Duo asked, his voice neutral.

Heero summoned an angry glare and Duo chuckled as he zipped the jumpsuit up to his throat.

Duo shoved his hands in his pocket and casually leaned one shoulder against Heero's locker.

"You know, maybe I was kinda rude the other night. After all, I could always use more friends." He winked at Heero and he couldn't help but flinch.

Duo was a townie, and while it was clear that he cared little for interacting with the students at Clarkson, Heero wouldn't put it past him, or anyone, to threaten to tell his peers about Heero's extracurricular activities. He just needed to make it through two more years, and then he could leave his past behind, go to grad school, and make a new life for himself. But if people knew how he paid for his education – he would never be able to escape it.

At the same time, he refused to give in and be cowed by the other man. If he wanted to harass him, then Heero would gladly return the favor.

He slammed Duo back against the locker, and the other man's indigo eyes widened in surprise.

"Go to hell," Heero hissed before storming away.

He took a seat at the back of the briefing hall and waited, silently fuming, for the rest to join him.

When Duo walked in, right as the clock struck nine, a smirk on his face, and winked at Heero _again_, he felt like punching the other man.

Une started to explain their work detail for the day – something about painting a fence somewhere – but was interrupted almost immediately by Dorothy, the front desk officer, who burst into the room.

"I'm sorry, Sergeant, but there's an emergency – Chief Winner needs you on the radio and –"

"Yes, fine," Une snapped. She surveyed them with a glare. "Do _not _move."

She stalked from the room and slammed the door behind her.

As soon as Une was out of sight, Relena got up from her seat and sat down beside Heero.

"This is _such _a waste of time, isn't it?"

He looked over at her, wondering why she was talking to him.

"I mean, we could be on the lake, having such a great time, but no, we're stuck _here_, with these people."

"It's raining," Heero pointed out.

Relena was in his Humanities course this semester, but hadn't spoken to him inside or outside of class before now. He wondered if she had heard of his academic reputation and was angling for tutoring or help cheating on tests. It certainly wouldn't be the first time he had been approached.

"But it's already wet at the lake anyway." She inexplicably licked her lips. "And there's nothing like swimming in the rain."

He fought the urge to move to a different seat. This was _not _what he needed.

He had Duo taunting him with his secret and Relena – one of the most popular girls at Clarkson – _hitting _on him.

Une burst back into the room, her face pale.

"I will not be able to supervise your community service today. Dorothy will be in charge of you. Do _not _do anything that will cause a reprimand. Please." Her voice had gone soft, to that strange, almost polite and sympathetic tone she had used last week after hauling off and slapping Duo.

Heero didn't understand Une's wild mood swings, but he much preferred the angry, sullen Une to this strange, Mother Theresa version.

Une left as quickly as she had entered and a moment later Dorothy came into the room.

"You will spend the morning cleaning out the bathrooms," she instructed with a sneer. "Here." She dumped a bucket of gloves and another one of cleaning materials on the desk at the front of the room. "Do _not _bother me."

She left the room after giving each of them a stern glare.

"Fuck that," Duo said and put his sandaled feet up on the desk.

"Fuck _you_," Trant muttered, and Heero rolled his eyes. He had no idea why Trant was so fixated on Duo – although after watching the other man strip he could certainly understand being attracted to him. But Trant's interest in Duo was more sociopathic than anything else.

"Stupid of me to think that you'd mind your own damn business and leave me the hell alone," Duo muttered as he laced his fingers behind his head and sneered at Trant.

"Not the only stupid thing about you," Trant assured him.

"Jesus, what _is _it with you?" Duo demanded. "Get yourself a new obsession, will you, this is _boring_."

"Listen, you piece of shit –" Trant jumped up from his chair and leaned over to haul Duo to his feet by the collar of his jumpsuit. "You need to learn a lesson and start respecting people better than you. You're nothing but a –"

"Stop it!" Quatre interrupted Trant. "If Dorothy walks in and sees this we'll all be in trouble."

"Quit your whining, princess," Trant muttered, but he released Duo and shoved him back towards his chair. Duo shoved him back, and rage clouded Trant's eyes.

Before either man could do anything else, however, Relena groaned loudly and got up from her chair.

"This _is _boring," she said. She walked over and grabbed Trant's hand. "Come on, you can help me break into the computer system and we can have a little fun."

Trant scowled at her for a moment, but she tugged on his hand and smiled and he shrugged.

"What the hell. He can wait."

"Oh get the fuck over yourself," Duo snapped.

"You can't break into the computers! It's a crime!" Quatre tried to stop Trant and Relena before they left the room.

"We're already in trouble, and no one is here anyway. If you really want, _you _can go clean the toilets while the rest of us have some fun." She smirked. "After all, I'm just dying to see what kind of files they have on us – don't _you _want to know why everyone else is in here?"

"No," Wufei spoke up. "I don't, and neither should you. We only committed misdemeanors and most of our records will be expunged in a few years. There's no reason to go messing around with this."

"Nah, she's right, this should be good," Duo spoke up, his smirk making Heero's blood boil. "Never know what you can learn about your friends."

He shouldered his way past Trant and Relena, not missing the chance to shove Trant to one side as he did so, and was out of the door before anyone else could argue.

Trant, Relena, Hilde, and Wufei instantly followed him.

"This is such a bad idea," Quatre muttered before he too followed them.

Heero looked to the side to see Trowa Barton, another student at Clarkson, still sitting in his chair, looking completely uninterested in anything.

"We might as well join them," Heero said, trying to keep his voice neutral. He was terrified of Duo telling the others about him – but even more terrified of not being there when he did so.

Trowa shrugged but he stood up and walked with Heero out of the room.

It took them a moment to find the others, but Trowa spotted them crammed into Une's office.

Heero rolled his eyes at their antics. Trant was typing away at her computer, while the others were going through the filing cabinets and checking the papers littered on her desk.

"This is such a waste of time," Trowa muttered, but he opened the door and stepped in. Heero followed and then closed the door.

He followed Trowa's example and joined the other man leaning against one wall of the office and watched the others continue their search.

It took at least half an hour, but eventually Relena squealed in delight and held up a file folder labeled 'Community Service Participants.'

"Found it! Now we get to know everyone's dirty little secrets. Let's see –"

Duo snatched the file away from Relena just as she started to open it.

"I have a better reading voice," he assured her with a smirk.

She opened her mouth to argue, but Duo just waved her away before sitting down on Une's desk.

"Now, let us see here, what have you devious criminals done to warrant community service…" he opened the file and started to run his finger over, presumably, the list of their crimes.

Heero forced himself to breathe normally and kept a steady glare on Duo.

"Trowa Barton…" Duo looked up with a frown and scanned the room. Heero rolled his eyes when he noticed the others doing so as well.

At least Duo and Hilde had the excuse of not attending Clarkson – but Heero was irritated that Relena, Wufei, Trant, and Quatre didn't know their own classmate. Heero had taken two courses with Trowa, and a few of the others had been in each of those classes.

"OH. You're Trowa!" Relena finally exclaimed, her eyes landing on the tall man at the back of the room.

"Are you sure?" Trowa asked, his soft voice nevertheless managing to convey his sarcasm. Heero smirked when Relena started to frown.

"Anyway," Duo continued, "Trowa Barton. Convicted of not paying an… impressive number of parking tickets. Eighteen? How do you even still have a license after that many?"

Trowa remained silent, and Duo shrugged.

"Up next we have… hm, well, yeah, obviously. And then there's –"

"Wait. You can't just skip over someone. If you get to see the information we should all get to," Wufei jumped in.

Duo shrugged.

"Alright. Fine by me." He looked over at Trant, a sneer twisting his lips. "Disorderly conduct for ass face over there, which is a nice way of –"

"Without the editorializing," Wufei snapped when Trant started towards Duo.

"Whatever. Moving on. Possession for my girl here, arson for the guy with a stick up his ass – what did you burn down?"

Heero followed Duo's gaze over to Wufei, surprised to see the Chinese man actually looking embarrassed.

"It wasn't – it was a protest rally and things got out of hand."

"Okay, but what did you burn?"

"An effigy," Wufei bit out through gritted teeth.

"An effigy?" Duo repeated.

"It's a likeness of –"

"I know what an effigy is, Sherlock. _Who _was it?"

"Thomas Clarkson."

Duo arched an eyebrow.

"Thomas Clarkson as in the guy who founded the town of Clarkson, Clarkson College, Clarkson Library, Clarkson –"

"Yes, yes. _That _Thomas Clarkson. Who also happened to own one of the largest plantations in the state and owned more slaves than –"

"Yeah, okay. Now I see. Boring. Moving on again. Ah… what is this? Public indecency? Must be me – oh, nope, hang on. It's Junior Deputy himself!"

"I don't want to talk about it," Quatre said, his pale skin flushing red.

"Don't worry, we'll have a long chat about it later," Duo promised with a wink before looking back at his list. "Let's see…" the humor abruptly left his face and he looked up, his eyes narrowed, at Relena.

"What?" She demanded after tossing her hair over one shoulder. "It's not any worse than anyone else's."

"It's a fucking DUI," Duo snapped. "So, yeah, that's worse than anyone else's."

"Please. Like no one else has ever driven home drunk before. And, anyway, didn't your girl friend get busted for possession? Doing drugs is a _lot _worse than drinking."

"Hilde had a bag of pot, which she intended to smoke at home or by the lake. Do you know how many people she endangers when she gets high? None. Maybe herself – maybe. But that's it. _You _decide to binge on Malibu and cranberries with your sorority sisters and then get behind the wheel of a four thousand pound steel death machine and _you _put a shit ton of other people at risk. So, yeah, it's fucking worse than everyone else's."

He snapped the folder open wider, ignoring Relena's open mouth.

As impressed as Heero was with Duo's tirade, he was also terrified of the fact that there were only two names left – his and Duo's – and he knew that as harsh as Duo's judgment of Relena had been, the judgment of Heero's peers on him would be even worse.

"So, after we get past our soon-to-be-murderer, we have… ah yes. Aggravated assault. Tsk tsk. You should really look into some anger management classes." Duo looked up at Heero, his gaze steady.

"I thought _you _were in here for assault," Hilde said.

Duo shrugged.

"What did _you _do?" Relena demanded, venom in her voice.

"My dad said someone was busted for –" Quatre caught himself and his face turned red again.

"Busted for what, princess?" Trant asked. "What did that faggot do to get sent here?"

"Maybe I heard wrong," Quatre said.

"Maybe," Duo agreed, "but then again, maybe not. C'mon, what did the old man divulge to you?"

Quatre drew in a deep breath.

"He said someone was busted for prostitution."

All eyes focused on Duo.

"I knew it," Trant said, a satisfied smirk on his face. "I _knew _you were just a –"

"Shut up," Hilde interrupted. She turned to Duo. "You told me you were convicted of assault, after that fight –"

"Yeah, well, I was embarrassed to tell you the truth," Duo said with an indifferent shrug. "'Sides, it was only supposed to be a joke but the cops seemed to disagree with me about my sense of humor."

"Disgusting," Wufei added. "Selling your body? How can you stand here and judge any of us? Even Relena –"

"What do you mean _even _Relena_?"_ The girl in question interrupted, her voice shrill. "What I did was perfectly normal. Not like burning a straw replica of a dead guy. Or getting high all the time. Or climbing a building naked. Or being a prostitute."

"Wait, who climbed a building – Quatre?" Wufei turned to the blond man. "Is that what you did?"

"Nicely done!" Duo jumped in. "I didn't think you had it in you, Junior Deputy!"

"Stop calling me that!"

"Sure, just give me a few to think of a new name for you… something involving naked –"

"Get your mind out of the gutter!" Wufei snapped. "Clearly your profession has robbed you of the ability to think of anything besides sex."

Heero clenched his jaw. He had expected that kind of reaction. But Wufei, whom he considered to be _almost a_ friend, he had never thought the other man would be so quick to judge.

He was baffled that Duo had taken the fall for him, and as the others continued to bicker he tried to figure out w_hy_. They were virtual strangers to each other, and their only conversations to date had ended in violence, or at least the attempt at violence. Duo had made it perfectly clear that he looked down on Heero, and yet here he was, switching crimes and taking abuse for something he hadn't even done.

"Listen, you cheap –"

"Shut up!" Trowa interrupted Trant.

Everyone immediately silenced and focused on the other man.

"What did you say to me?" Trant demanded.

"Dorothy's coming this way," Trowa said calmly. He jerked his head towards the door to the room.

Heero looked through the window, and sure enough, Dorothy was stalking down the hall, a scowl on her face.

"Shit." Duo closed the file and jumped off the desk. "Where did you find this?" he asked Relena.

"Top drawer – under the gun."

"Under the – fucking hell." Duo shoved the file into the drawer.

"Now what?" Hilde demanded. "We just pretend like we got lost and didn't know where the bathrooms were for the last hour?"

"You all go out the other door and get to the bathrooms," Quatre instructed. "I'll distract her."

"Thanks man," Duo said and clapped Quatre on the shoulder. He grabbed Hilde's hand and dragged her from the room, and a moment later everyone else started to follow.

Heero was the last to leave the room, and he looked over his shoulder to see Quatre sit down in Une's chair and put his feet on her desk. Heero winced. He couldn't imagine Dorothy NOT reacting badly to that.

He joined the others in the men's bathroom and ignored Relena's exclamations over the state of the urinals.

He looked for Duo and saw the other man actually adding to the graffiti on the stalls. He wanted to say something to him, but he wasn't sure if he wanted to thank him or yell at him. It wasn't HIS problem, after all, and it went against everything Heero thought about Duo for him to have made that sacrifice.

Duo looked up and caught him scowling in his direction. He winked and Heero turned away. Maybe just ignoring him would be the best solution.

A moment later the bathroom door slammed open and Quatre, followed immediately by Dorothy, entered.

"All of you are dismissed," Dorothy snapped.

"Uh, when you say dismissed, do you want us to clear out so you can screw Junior Deputy or –"

"I mean that you are dismissed for the day," she interrupted Duo. "Go home."

"Do we get credit for the full day?" Hilde asked.

Dorothy turned a glare in her direction.

"It's a fair question," Wufei said when it looked like Dorothy wouldn't respond.

"Yes. _Fine_. Just – get out of here."

"Don't have to tell me twice." Duo saluted her with the sharpie he had been using and held out one hand to Hilde. The girl regally accepted it and he tucked her hand around his elbow before the two strolled out of the room.

Dorothy rolled her eyes.

"Out!" She barked at the rest of them, and Heero followed the others out of the bathroom and back to the locker room.

"What's going on?" Wufei asked Quatre. "What happened?"

"I don't know. She didn't even yell at me for being in the office. She just said something about an emergency down at the lake and that she had to get down there."

"Leaving _no _one at the station? What kind of emergency could it be?"

Heero wondered the same thing, but didn't join in the conversation. He walked over to Duo's locker.

"Why did you do that?" he demanded.

Duo unzipped his jumpsuit and kicked it off.

"Told ya, I could always use more friends."

"I don't understand."

Duo shrugged and leaned against his locker, arms folded across his chest, completed unconcerned that he was naked except for his boxers.

"I was rude – and an asshole – and I shouldn't have been. You seem like an okay guy – even if you are a Clarkson student."

"I still –"

"Dude, just say thank you and let's move on."

Heero frowned and Duo rolled his eyes and started to pull on his still wet clothes.

"Thank you," he finally managed to say just as Duo stepped into his sandals.

"No prob." Duo winked at him. "See ya next week!" He waved and walked away, not even bothering to shout obscenities at Trant when the soccer player called him a cheap lay.

Heero dressed in a daze, unsure what exactly had just happened.

He wasn't sure, but it seemed like he finally, for the first time in his life, had a friend.

As he left the station he noticed that the weather had cleared, and sunlight was starting to peak through the clouds.

Dorothy was still at the front desk, frantically taking notes as someone on the dispatch radio yelled at her.

He stopped to listen for a moment.

"…everywhere. It's like the bodies were ripped apart by some kind of animal. Damnit. There's blood _everywhere_. We can't even tell how many are dead, there's just –"

Dorothy turned down the volume and glared at Heero.

"I said get _out_," she barked.

Heero frowned, but left the station, disturbed by the radio report.

Outside, he looked back over his shoulder and saw Dorothy turn the volume back on and start taking notes again.

He was distracted, however, by a shout of laughter.

Heero looked down the street to see Hilde and Duo walking away, side by side.

This time, as he looked at them, he didn't feel envy. He felt something that he tentatively labeled as hope.


	4. Chapter 4

Warnings: Angst, violence, language, drug use, abuse, supernatural things, sex, yaoi, yuri, het. If you desperately need to know who is paired with who send me a message and I can tell you, but I'd rather you get to experience the evolution of the characters first.

A/N: Based on Misfits, but draws from X-Men, Smallville, and Heroes as well. These kids aren't the complete burnouts that the Misfits are, but they are NOT perfect angels. Be warned.

A/N #2: Thanks to the always amazing Cuzo, more than a beta and no less than a friend.

A/N#3: A special thanks to Snowdragonct, who has been so encouraging and supportive since I first started writing here. Thank you for your advice, conversation, and general brilliance. Also, you are a badass AND a classy lady.

A/N#4: I want to give credit to Cuzosu for suggesting Heero's powers be Storm-like. It saved me from the terrible mistake of giving him super lame powers, and I'm glad that so many of you have enjoyed her recommendation as well. Thank you for saving Heero!

**Deviant**

Chapter Four

Trowa kept to the same routine, every morning. He had for the last eleven months, and according to his doctor he should plan to keep the same routine for as long as possible.

Having a routine was supposed to help. Keeping things in order, doing the same thing every day – it was supposed to help him gain control of his life and put his problems into perspective. It was supposed to keep him from trying to kill himself again.

While it had kept him from attempting suicide again, it certainly hadn't stopped him from thinking about it. He even had it scheduled in – when he woke up at six every morning, he allowed himself ten minutes in bed, to remember what it had felt like to cut open his skin, and to think about what it would mean to do it again. After those ten minutes, however, he shoved those memories and dreams into a box and put it in a dark corner of his mind.

He knew it wasn't safe or healthy to dwell on those thoughts, but he also knew it was impossible _not _to think about it. So, he allowed himself ten minutes, every day, just to keep it manageable.

After that, every morning, he got up, made his bed, completed his morning ablutions, and dressed. He packed his backpack for the day, double checking his books, computer, and any assignments due before washing his travel mug and placing it at the top of the bag. Then he left his room and made the nearly mile long trek from his dorm to the coffee shop off of Main Street, across from the far corner of the campus.

Trowa had a meal plan, and while the caf wasn't five-star food, it wasn't terrible, and in any case, Trowa had never had a great deal of interest in food. But ordering hot tea from the coffee shop every morning was, just as much as remembering his suicide attempt, both a reward and torture.

It had taken him a few weeks to work out the pattern, but Mondays, Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Fridays were the days that he could look forward to. Wednesdays and Saturdays were almost always a disappointment, and the shop was closed on Sundays. When Trowa had first discovered that, it had ruined a week of a perfect routine, but even after he discovered that it was closed he found himself walking to the shop anyway, and then continuing on to the gas station two blocks down and buying tea, just to keep some semblance of the routine.

Today, Monday, was definitely a day he could look forward to.

Sure enough, as he entered the coffee shop at seven thirty, one of the first customers of the day, he was brightly greeted by the man behind the counter.

"Morning and welcome to Java Joe's!"

Trowa never responded to the greeting, and his silence usually resulted in the man turning around to face him. Which he did.

"Let me guess," the man put two fingers to his temple and closed his eyes, his face shifting into an expression of deep thought. Trowa allowed himself a small smile at the man's antics. "Hot water and… Earl Grey!" His indigo eyes snapped open and he shot Trowa a smirk. "Or have you decided to go crazy today and try the Irish Breakfast?"

"No," Trowa said as he handed over his mug, "just the Earl Grey."

"Strong choice."

The man's long fingers brushed over Trowa's as he took the mug, and Trowa swallowed hard and forced himself not to think about how warm and firm those fingers were.

He dug two singles out of his pocket and placed them on the counter and watched the man prepare his tea.

Trowa liked to flatter himself and think that the man didn't do this for every customer – that he didn't fill the bottom of the mug with a tablespoon of honey and a dash of milk before draping the tea bag into the mug and pouring hot water. This had been part of the routine since the second time Trowa came into the shop, and the man had asked him how he took his tea. There was a side table of condiments and sweeteners, so it was clear that customers were expected to flavor their coffee and tea as they desired. He had initially mistrusted the man, and his desire to prepare Trowa's tea for him, but after tasting it that time and being amazed at how perfectly he had gotten it, he had decided to just go with it and let it be part of the routine.

The other part of the routine, Trowa's favorite, had started the first day he had ordered tea. It had lasted all through spring semester, and over the summer, and he was grateful that it continued into the fall.

As the man handed Trowa back the travel mug, he wrapped a napkin around it, and pressed it into Trowa's palm.

"Here ya go!" The man smiled at him and added one dollar to the register while putting the other into the tip jar.

Trowa put the lid on his cup and started to walk away. He pulled the napkin away from the cup, expecting to see the same name and ten digits scribbled onto it that he had looked at for the last eight months, but the napkin was blank.

He stopped walking.

"I _thought _that would finally get your attention."

Trowa frowned, but turned to face the man. He was smirking and had his arms crossed over his chest.

"I mean, we've been doing this every morning since… what, the second week of January? I've got rules, you know. I don't date Clarkson students, and I don't try to pick up the same guy more than three times. But for you, I've broken one rule and I'd be willing to break the other."

"Then why…?" Trowa held up the empty napkin. "You decided to give up," he realized.

"Nah, you're too intriguing for me to give up _that _easily. I mean, I've _only _been trying to pick you up for eight months and gotten NO response from you, ever. But you still come in here every day. You still smile at me when I'm not looking at you –"

"How do you know? If you aren't looking?"

The man winked, but continued without answering Trowa's question.

" – you still leave a hundred percent tip. You still smirk, just a little, when I touch your hand over the mug."

Trowa felt his face flush. He hadn't realized he was being that obvious about how much he enjoyed this morning encounter.

"But, you know, now I know who you are, Trowa Barton. I know all about your reckless obsession with parking illegally. And I've seen how you look in an orange jumpsuit a few sizes too small for you. So, I'm not going to just sit back and give you my name and phone number every morning anymore. Besides, if you were interested – I'm sure you've got it memorized or at least programmed into your phone by now."

Which was true. Trowa had put it into his phone after the fifth time the man had given it to him. Sometimes he would pull it up and think about calling him.

"Besides, maybe now that _you _know why I'm in community service, you aren't interested in this whole hand holding over coffee mugs thing anymore."

"I'm here, aren't I?" Trowa said, trying to fight down the sudden sense of desperation he felt.

_Why _did things have to change? He didn't care what the man had done to merit community service – honestly, he was beyond grateful that he had yet another opportunity to look at him. He also appreciated that the man never tried to talk to him there, as if he understood that, for Trowa, compartmentalizing his life was the only thing that kept him sane. He tried not to think about the rest of his life while he was at community service, and when he wasn't at community service he certainly tried to pretend that he didn't have to go there every Saturday for the next two months.

"Yeah, that's true." The man sighed. "What do you want, anyway?"

"I don't understand."

"What do you want from _me_? Is it just that you like the attention? Because with this whole quiet, mysterious tortured soul thing you've got going – I'm sure you get plenty of attention from your classmates."

Trowa couldn't help his snort of disdain at that assumption.

"I'm invisible," he said without thinking, and instantly regretted it. "I mean – Saturday – no one even knew who I was."

"Heero did," the man pointed out.

Trowa shrugged. He was confident that Heero only knew who _he _was because they had both earned perfect marks on a Calculus test last semester, and Heero likely resented someone coming within striking distance of his perfect grade in the class.

"You _could _try talking to people, you know," the man suggested.

"I've tried it before."

The man arched an eyebrow.

"Didn't work out for you?"

"People are…" he knew it would be hypocritical to say that they were harsh, judgmental, and boring when _he _was also all of those things. Maybe it wasn't hypocritical, just ironic.

"Shitheads," the man finished for him when he waited too long.

Trowa couldn't help but laugh at the sincerity in his voice.

"Yeah," he agreed.

"Listen, I'm not going to pretend that I don't think that you're hot, or interesting, or that I don't enjoy starting off the morning getting to see you – and hold your hand for a few seconds. But… you're killing my ego here, man. I get you not talking to me at community service – but, seriously, I've given you my number _hundreds _of times."

"This is the best part of my day," Trowa blurted out, fearing where this conversation was going.

The man smiled, and it wasn't his usual, cocky grin, but a slow expression that warmed his entire face. Trowa felt his own lips turning upwards in response.

"Okay, well, why don't we try doing this for an extended period of time and maybe at some other venue? Maybe even longer than ten minutes?"

Time. Trowa winced and looked at his watch.

Usually he allotted himself exactly ten minutes to get his tea, ogle the man behind the counter, smile at the napkin with his name and phone number, and then walk back to campus. On Tuesdays and Thursdays he could take more time – sometimes he lingered in the coffee shop for a few minutes, watching as the man helped other customers or continued to prepare the first pots of coffee for the day. But on Mondays and Wednesdays he had an eight A.M. class, across campus, and because of his compulsive need to be ten minutes early, he was currently wrecking his routine by having stayed here for not ten or fifteen minutes, but twenty. If he didn't start for his class now, he would be in danger of actually being late for it.

"I have a class. I have to go."

The man's jaw dropped.

"That's _it_?"

"No, I –"

The man threw his hands up.

"Forget it. Dude, seriously. Eight months. Eight –"

"I'm not what you want anyway," Trowa interrupted him, angry at himself and the other man. He realized that, by allowing himself to enjoy this attraction to the other man, but not acting on it, he had been quietly encouraging the other man. Which wasn't fair, and it wasn't right. Not when the man clearly thought he was interesting, or that there was any value in knowing Trowa outside of these ten minute interactions.

He arched an eyebrow.

"And what _do _I want?"

"I have to go to class." Trowa started for the door, but he turned around again as he reached it. "Duo."

The man looked up at him. It was the first time, in eight months, that Trowa had ever said his name out loud. Despite the fact that he wore a name tag, and that he helpfully added it, with two underlines, to the napkin with his phone number every day, Trowa had never actually addressed him by name before. Not out loud, in any case.

"I'm really not what you want," he assured him.

"You saying that kind of makes me want you more, you know."

"That's not what I'm trying – you hate Clarkson students."

Duo shrugged.

"I could always pretend you were a student at the tech college down the road instead. I have a very active imagination."

"I don't talk."

"Aside from pointing out the obvious – that we're in a conversation right now – I think you're wrong. You _do _talk. You just don't… chat."

It was clear to Trowa that Duo wasn't going to let this drop. As much as Trowa didn't want to put an end to this, he knew, if he continued to come here every day, if he continued to talk to Duo, continued to 'hold hands over the coffee mug' with him – then he would have to tell him. And then, he knew, Duo would definitely put a stop to the casual flirting and the hand holding.

He checked his watch again. It was seven fifty-five. Even if he sprinted, he wouldn't make it to class on time at this point, and Professor Henry never allowed late entry to students.

It was going to end, one way or another, so he might as well end it now, on his terms.

Trowa set his coffee mug down and took off his backpack.

Duo eyed him warily, but remained silent, even as Trowa started to unbutton the neck of his button-down shirt.

Trowa stopped after three buttons, and he pulled the neck open wide.

"Jesus – what the hell happened to you?"

Duo came from behind the counter and approached Trowa. His right hand reached towards the left side of Trowa's neck, to the long, thick jagged scar than ran from his collar bone up several inches, across his jugular vein. He stopped, just short of touching him, and his hand fell back down to his side.

"I happened."

Duo's eyes went wide, and then narrowed. Trowa forced himself to meet the slightly shorter man's gaze. He expected to see disgust, maybe pity. But not raw anger.

"_Why_?" Duo hissed.

Trowa swallowed hard. He had been asked this question before – by his parents, his sister, his doctors, fellow inmates at the rehab center he had been shipped off to – and after a while, he had grown immune to the question. It became as mundane as someone asking him about the weather.

But no one had ever been this angry about it before. Not even his sister, who had been devastated and shocked, and had, ironically, threatened to kill him if he ever tried anything that stupid again.

Before he could answer, the bell over the door jingled, signally the entrance of more customers. Trowa hastily buttoned his shirt and Duo, with one last, fierce glare, turned from Trowa and resumed his place behind the counter. He smiled at the customers, his face an unreadable mask of false joy.

Trowa picked up his mug and backpack. His next class wasn't until that afternoon. He usually spent the time after his class and before lunch in the library, reading ahead for his history courses.

He felt unsettled and anxious staying here. His routine had been completely wrecked – and it looked like he would have to do some serious revisions to it for the future in any case – and he felt a sudden, bitter sense of hopelessness.

It wasn't even as though things had been going _well_. But they had been… going, and at this point, that was all Trowa really expected out of life in any case.

"Stay."

The command interrupted his thoughts, and Trowa looked up to see Duo, still glaring at him, as he added a swirl of whipped cream to someone's coffee order.

Trowa felt himself bristle at the angry tone. WHY? Why bother to stay just so Duo could yell at him and make the transition from anger to disgust? Things were already over. The routine was wrecked. There was no point.

"Please."

Duo still looked angry, but for some reason that made the second word seem sincere.

Trowa found himself sitting down at the table closest to the counter, out of Duo's direct line of sight. He thought about drinking his tea, but his was still too anxious, and the thought of burning his tongue on the hot liquid was too appealing. He forced himself to think about the essay due in his Russian history class next week, mentally editing the paper he had already started.

It was an hour before the coffee shop was empty again.

Duo came around the edge of the counter and leaned against it, his arms folded again, and sighed.

"I've got no right to judge you," Duo said slowly.

Trowa looked up at him. That definitely wasn't what he expected to hear.

"But why the _fuck _would you do something so stupid and selfish?"

"It's my life, isn't it?" Trowa demanded, Duo's anger giving birth to his own.

"Is it? You just sprang, fully formed, from the ocean or some shit?"

Trowa frowned. He didn't understand why Duo was referencing Greek mythology.

"You don't have a family?"

"Of course I do."

"Of course," Duo echoed, his lips twisted in a bitter sneer. "And fuck them, right? What do they care if you kill yourself?"

"It isn't _about _them. It's about _me_."

"Bullshit. You leave that in a note for them? 'It's not you, it's me?' I'm sure that would have comforted the hell out of them."

Trowa glared at him.

"It was a year ago."

Duo nodded. "So things have changed, then? You realize you're a stupid, selfish asshole and have no business ruining the lives of people who love you?"

"I promised them I wouldn't do it again."

"And you keep your word, huh?" Duo sneered.

Trowa did, as a matter of fact, pride himself on not breaking promises.

"Did you also promise to tell them if you _thought _about doing it again?"

Trowa swallowed hard and had to look away.

"Of course not. Well, do you? Do you still think about it?"

"Yes."

"How –"

"Every day. Every morning when I wake up. I think about it. I remember what it felt like, and I imagine how it would feel to do it again."

Duo's face went pale, and he offered no comment to that confession.

"I _told _you I wasn't what you wanted," Trowa muttered.

"Fuck you." Duo shook his head. "Seriously, _fuck you_. I –" he cut himself off when another customer entered.

Trowa took the opportunity to make his retreat. Even if Duo did want him to wait for another lull in customers, Trowa wasn't sure he could handle any more of Duo's anger.

He gathered his now cold tea and his backpack before shouldering open the door and walking out.

He wasn't surprised when Duo didn't call after him "See ya tomorrow," as he usually did, but it still hurt.

* * *

><p>Altering his routine proved to be easier and far more painful than he had thought it would be.<p>

Tuesday morning, instead of walking across campus to the coffee shop, he instead made his way to the caf, only a few hundred yards from his dorm, and joined the line of half-awake students shuffling through the food and beverage buffets.

The caf didn't have organic milk, or local honey, and the caf workers were a far cry from Duo. He managed to shoot a stream of boiling water across his hand as he pulled his mug away from the dispenser, and the pain was strangely unwelcome.

Because he now had extra time – eliminating the two mile round trip walk and the ten to fifteen minutes of chatting gave him an extra half hour – he made the colossal mistake of sitting down at a café table and drinking his tea amongst his peers.

He was, predictably, completely ignored. Several students that he shared classes with – even Quatre Winner and Wufei Chang – walked past him without even giving him a nod of acknowledgement.

It reminded him of his conversation with Duo yesterday morning, but it also reinforced the fact that he truly was invisible.

It had been a cruel and ironic twist of fate to wake up the Sunday after being struck by lightning and discover that he was literally as invisible as he metaphorically felt.

After discovering that he had no reflection in the mirror over his dorm room sink, he had ventured into the hall and the communal showers. He had been completely ignored – which wasn't unusual – but when he planted himself in front of the exit, no fewer than four people ran into him on their way out, and then stumbled backwards in confusion – never once looking directly _at _him_._

Trowa had spent the day walking around, trying to get _anyone _to notice him. He wondered if maybe he HAD died in the lightning strike, and this was some kind of bizarre afterlife – he was a ghost, floating through the world of humans – but at three that afternoon he had wandered as far as the lake, three miles from campus, and as he sat down on the rocky shore and looked at the lake, searching for his reflection, it had slowly materialized. When he returned to his dorm an hour later, the RA had nodded a greeting to him as they passed in the hall, but no one else bothered to acknowledge him again.

It took him two weeks to figure out how to control it – and he had never felt more idiotic practicing anything in his life – but now, nearly a month after the Event, as he had mentally taken to calling the lightning strike, he could, at will, become invisible.

Wednesday and Thursday mornings were just as bad as Tuesday, and he debated the merits of actually just being invisible on a full time basis. It wasn't as if he would miss out on any human interaction, outside of his classes.

Then again, he clearly already _was _invisible, so why bother with the effort?

Trowa had read enough comic books growing up that he had, once realizing he wasn't dead, immediately thought of radioactive spiders and mutant cells evolving into superior humans. But _he _wasn't a superhero. His life wasn't crafted by Stan Lee, and he had no aspirations to be… anything, really.

Besides his apathy towards his new/old ability, Trowa felt that invisibility was – Wonder Woman aside – more of a villain's attribute than anything else. The only uses he could think of for it were robbing banks and spying on people. He didn't care about money, and none of his classmates were interesting enough that he cared to follow them around and learn more about them.

On Thursday night he was in his dorm room, working on final revisions for his history paper, when he heard loud voices down the hall.

This wasn't a quiet floor – and it turned out that half of the soccer team had rooms near his – so Trowa was used to people shouting at all hours. But this didn't sound like the usual arguments or friendly shouting matches.

"…on this floor! I'm not a crazy stalker, I just want to know if he's _alive_!"

He frowned. That voice sounded strangely familiar.

"If you're a visitor then you need to sign in and WAIT for –" Mark, the RA, sounded near the end of his patience.

" I did sign in. And he doesn't know I'm here. No, seriously, I'm not a stalker. Just – is he alive? Have you seen him or anything?"

Trowa got up from his bed and walked closer to the door. He looked through the peephole, squinting to make out the two men standing a few feet from his door. Mark, he easily recognized from his bright red hair. But the other man – he turned suddenly, and the swish of a long braid of hair was visible.

"I haven't seen him since… I saw him a few days ago."

"A few days ago! Dude, he could be –"

Trowa opened his door, and Duo turned to look at him.

"-right there?" Mark finished for him. He shook his head and looked at Trowa. "This guy claims he's a friend of yours and _not _a crazy stalker."

"He's not. Not a crazy stalker," Trowa clarified.

Mark nodded.

"When he leaves, sign him out and add your name to his sign in, will you?"

"Yeah."

Mark went back into his room, and Duo, still halfway down the hall, shoved his hands in his pockets and actually looked embarrassed.

"I guess I'll go…" Duo started to turn.

"This your first time in a dorm?" Trowa asked, unwilling to let him leave just yet.

"First time inside _this _dorm," Duo said and scratched the back of his neck.

Trowa was surprised that, with his hatred of Clarkson College, Duo had _ever _been in a dorm before. He frowned. Why was Duo in a dorm _now_?

"Look, I –"

"Do you want to come in?" Trowa opened his door wider.

Duo frowned and looked uneasy, glancing down the hall to make sure the other doors were closed, before he started walking towards Trowa's room.

Once Duo was inside, Trowa closed the door behind him.

"I like what you've done with the place," Duo said, and even if Trowa wasn't well versed in sarcasm it would have been impossible to miss it in Duo's voice.

The walls of the room were completely bare, his books were neatly arrayed on his desk and the small bookcase he had purchased, and with the exception of the pairs of shoes shoved under his bed, all of his clothes were out of sight in his dresser or closet.

Trowa had seen other dorm rooms, and he knew that his was incredibly abnormal among college boys, but he couldn't be bothered to fit in and cover his walls with meaningless posters, and clutter tended to make him anxious, so he kept his room as clean and orderly as possible.

"I'd rather you not yell at me again," Trowa said, and gestured for Duo to sit on the bed while he sat on his desk chair.

Duo sat down with a chuckle.

"But why? Wasn't it fun for you?"

Trowa spent enough time observing people, had certainly spent enough time observing Duo, to know that he used humor as a shield. If he was feeling uncomfortable or awkward – well, Trowa was inclined to let him stew in that. After all, the last three days had been _hell _for him.

"It's good to see that your RA is so concerned about you getting killed by a stalker in your dorm room," Duo said after a prolonged, tense silence.

"Only because of the murders last weekend."

"When we were at community service?"

Trowa nodded.

"Why – oh. One of them was a student here, right? And the rest were his family, down to visit."

"All six of them," Trowa agreed.

Duo winced.

"No wonder Dorothy and Une were so freaked out. TV keeps insisting that it looked like a wild animal had torn them apart."

"Why are you here?"

As much as Trowa would have been happy to sit here and just listen to Duo talk, he was angry and bitter enough to punish both of them by being short with Duo.

"Yeah… I was… kind of a jerk, on Monday morning. And then you didn't come by, Tuesday – and Margie told me you didn't come in Wednesday, and you didn't come in _again _today_…"_

"So it took you three days to figure that what? I might have killed myself?"

"No. After Tuesday I figured you might have just decided to take a day to cool off – and when Margie told me you didn't come in Wednesday I tried to track you down, but the bitch at the registrar wouldn't tell me anything and I went around to the dorms, asking, but fucking _Trant _was sitting night duty at the front desk to this one last night, so…"

"You went to every dorm, trying to figure out which one I was in?"

"Except for this one."

"And then you came back tonight. To make sure that I hadn't killed myself."

"Uh… yeah."

"I told you I wouldn't. I promised my family I wouldn't."

"Right. But that was before and –"

"Wait. You think that you yelling at me would… make me want to kill myself?" For some reason he couldn't pinpoint, Trowa found it amusing that Duo thought that _he _might have been responsible for Trowa trying to kill himself again.

"Well, it's not like I'm so awesome or anything, I just – you've never missed coming to the shop, in eight months. Even when I'm not there, Margie says you still come in Wednesdays and Saturdays. So it wasn't like you were avoiding _me_, you –"

"I didn't do it because of a person. Before. I wouldn't – people are shitheads."

Duo pulled one knee up to his chest and propped his chin on it. The pose was completely nonthreatening, and in fact made _him _look vulnerable.

"Why? Why _did _you do it?"

Trowa resisted the urge to pick up a pencil and fiddle with it, and instead forced himself to meet Duo's gaze. He decided to give Duo the real answer. Not the answer that he had developed over months of therapy and a desire for the doctors to just leave him alone, but the real reasons he had felt that taking his own life was the best course of action.

"Because why not? My life is – was – no, _is_– just this vast, empty wasteland. It's not one big thing, it's just hundreds of little things. I'm not happy. I can't actually remember the last time I _was _happy_._ I mean, sure, certain activities make me happy, but I'm not… I don't wake up feeling excited about the day or anything like that. Ever. I'm majoring in history because reading is something I can do without thinking about things. It lets me focus on words, on facts, on other people, and I don't have to _think _about me and how empty I am. I wasn't bored – I mean, yes, I was, but that wasn't it. I'm alone, even with a family – even with my sister calling _every _night to make sure I'm still alive – and this world isn't very good, and there's not a place for me in it."

Duo swallowed several times before he finally shook his head and sat back up.

"My brother committed suicide. Seven years ago."

Trowa blinked and tried to figure out what to do with that information.

"I… he didn't leave a note, or anything. He was home between tours. He'd just gotten back from Afghanistan, and he was going to be sent back again in a few weeks." Duo cleared his throat. "Anyway, I never got the chance to yell at him for doing it, and I guess…"

"You yelled at me instead."

Duo nodded.

"I don't know why he did it. I mean – yeah, war is really, really fucking awful. But he actually – he wasn't a bad guy or anything, but he was _excited _about going back. He thought he was making a difference and he was one of those guys who enlisted right after September Eleventh, you know?"

Trowa abruptly realized that, despite the fact that he had seen Duo almost every morning for eight months, he still knew almost nothing about him. He didn't know what kind of politics he believed in, he didn't know what family he had left – _this _was the only personal thing he knew about Duo.

"Fuck, this is _not _why I came here." Duo scrubbed at the his eyes with the back of his hand. "I'm glad you're alive, and I'm sorry that I was an arrogant asshole and… fuck it. Just, _don'_t think about it every day?"

"It's impossible not to. Even if I didn't want to – whenever I shave, it's right there. I can't ignore it."

"Then grow a beard."

Trowa arched an eyebrow.

"I mean, if you think about it, you're never _not _going to think about it."

Trowa's lips twitched at that logic, and Duo glared.

"I have a routine. After I got out of rehab, the doctor said that keeping to a routine would help me… evaluate my feelings and help me keep things orderly. Thinking about it, about killing myself, it's part of that. I _have _to remember it. I _have _to think about it. If I don't, if I don't remember the logical conclusion to my isolation and depression, then I'm just going to do the same thing again. I can't let myself forget."

Duo ran a hand through his bangs and sat up straight.

"So your routine. You wake up. You think about dying…"

"For ten minutes."

"Ten fucking minutes! _Ten_–"

Trowa decided to continue to list his routine, hoping to talk over Duo.

"Then I make up my bed. I brush my teeth, then I shower, then –"

"You masturbate," Duo interjected. "Or are you more of a 'in the sock before you hit the sheets' kind of guy?"

_This _was the Duo at community service, and while Trowa still preferred the Duo of Java Joe's, he liked community service Duo more than near-hysterical and yelling Duo.

"In the shower," he answered.

Duo nodded his approval and waved for him to continue.

"Then I shave. Although maybe I'll stop doing that," he added with a wry grin. "Then I dress, pack my backpack, wash my travel mug, and then I get ten minutes with you. Fifteen on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Then I go to my morning class, then the library, then the caf for lunch, then afternoon classes, then the library again – or the academic quad, when the weather is nice – then dinner at the caf. I study for two hours every night, then I watch Netflix for three hours, and then I go to sleep. On Fridays, I don't have a morning class, so I go to the public library downtown and read science fiction books. On Saturdays I have community service. On Sundays – "

"Joe's isn't open on Sundays."

"I go to the gas station, on the corner. Then I walk down to the lake for a few hours, and then I study."

"That… sounds boring as shit."

Trowa shrugged.

"It is – most of it. But it keeps me from thinking about things too much. It's not stressful. I try to spend as much time around other people as I can, to minimize the time that I'm alone."

"Why?"

"It's easier to think, when I'm alone."

"And thinking makes you think… of suicide."

"Not _just _suicide. The general fucked up state of things and the world. Of me. Sometimes I –" Trowa caught himself. There was absolutely no need to tell Duo that sometimes he thought about good things, that sometimes he thought about _Duo_, about calling him, about kissing him, or fucking him.

"Why have you never called me?"

"Because this is me." He gestured to the empty dorm walls. "I already told you the best part of my day was the ten to fifteen minutes I spend with you in the morning. What would I – what would I even talk to you about? At some point, I'd have to tell you about this," he gestured to his neck, where the scar was fully visible above the collar of the t-shirt had had changed into when he returned to his dorm that night, "and then what? Then it would be over. I never called you because I didn't want it to end."

Duo snorted.

"You're lucky I'm fucking persistent, then. Seriously, I gave you my number _hundreds _of times. And I read, you know – I've heard of this 'science fiction' you speak of. I've read my Asimov and my Ursula Le Quin. And… I'm here, aren't I?" He echoed Trowa's words from earlier that week.

"Because you thought you'd driven me to suicide."

"Well, that's why I _came _here, but I think we established, like an hour ago, that you're still alive."

"I don't know what I want," Trowa answered the question that Duo had asked him on Monday. "I… like looking at you, and talking to you. When you aren't yelling at me."

Duo rolled his eyes. "It was _one _time – okay, _two _times. Don't let it scar you for life." He shook his head, but then turned serious. "So… is that _all _you want, then? Just to look at me and talk to me for ten to fifteen minutes?"

"I think I'd fuck up anything more than that," Trowa answered honestly.

Duo shrugged. "That's a risk I'm willing to take."

Trowa frowned, unsure if _he _wanted to take that risk.

Duo got off the bed and stood beside Trowa.

"Don't freak out, okay?"

Before Trowa had a chance to ask what Duo was talking about, the other man leaned over and kissed him, his lips a light, but firm pressure against his own. Trowa could smell the other man – the sharp, faint scent of his aftershave – and he could feel the warm heat of his body, seemingly warming Trowa as well just by its nearness.

Duo pulled away and looked at Trowa, his expression serious.

"Did either of us fuck that up?" he asked, still serious.

"Not yet," Trowa answered, just as serious.

"So let's just give this a try… maybe you can work a few minutes into your routine for me? I mean, aside from those ten to fifteen minutes."

"You thinks it's funny that I schedule that, don't you?"

"No – no more funny than the rest of your schedule." Duo frowned. "When you say you're afraid to fuck this up, does it have anything to with you and wanting to – "

"No. But I barely manage to function on my own. I –"

"I'm not asking you to move in with me. Just… let's grab pizza or – okay. How about this? Saturday I'll say hi to you at community service. And if you're feeling crazy, you can say hi back. But no pressure. We'll just work our way up from there. Maybe next week we can grab a pizza, if you can find a way to work that into your routine."

Trowa glared at him, but Duo leaned down and kissed him again, this time running opening his mouth and running his tongue over Trowa's bottom lip and teasing his mouth open. The touch of Duo's tongue against his own was electric, and Trowa found himself reaching up to grab Duo's head and keep him from pulling away.

After a few minutes, they eased apart, and Duo smirked at him.

"Still not fucked up, then?"

Trowa shook his head.

"Good. Well… I guess I'll see you tomorrow morning?" He sounded just a little unsure of himself.

"Yeah. The caf doesn't have organic milk or local honey or –"

"Or me?" Duo finished and winked at him.

"Or you," Trowa agreed. He stood when Duo started towards the door.

"So…" Duo opened the door.

"I have to walk you out and sign you out," Trowa told him.

"Right. Cool."

Duo started down the hall, hands once again shoved into his pockets, and his entire attitude was such a drastic change from his usual, exuberant and confident self, that Trowa frowned. Did Duo really hate Clarkson _that _much_?_ That just being in a dorm made him that uncomfortable?

When they reached the front desk, Duo signed his name with a flourish, while Trowa initialed beside it.

"See ya!" Duo waved and started off, a grin on his face that seemed a little forced, but at least his hands weren't in his pockets or his shoulders hunched anymore.

Trowa watched him walk away until he was out of the dim glow of streetlights, and then he walked back to his dorm room.

It was almost ten o'clock, and his paper was only half-revised.

So much, he thought, for routine.


	5. Chapter 5

Warnings: Angst, violence, language, drug use, abuse, supernatural things, sex, yaoi, yuri, het. If you desperately need to know who is paired with who send me a message and I can tell you, but I'd rather you get to experience the evolution of the characters first.

A/N: Based on Misfits, but draws from X-Men, Smallville, and Heroes as well. These kids aren't the complete burnouts that the Misfits are, but they are NOT perfect angels. Be warned.

A/N #2: Thanks to the always amazing Cuzo, more than a beta and no less than a friend.

A/N#3: A special thanks to Snowdragonct, who has been so encouraging and supportive since I first started writing here. Thank you for your advice, conversation, and general brilliance. Also, you are a badass AND a classy lady.

A/N#4: I want to give credit to Cuzo for suggesting Heero's powers be Storm-like. It saved me from the terrible mistake of giving him super lame powers, and I'm glad that so many of you have enjoyed her recommendation as well. Thank you for saving Heero!

**Deviant**

Chapter Five

Saturdays were the bane of Wufei's existence.

For the past month he had suffered through the menial physical labor assigned to him and somehow managed to put up with the rude attitudes of his fellow reprobates.

At least Heero was sharing this burden – his silent, sullen self was _almost _comforting.

When he woke up for the fourth of his court mandated eight days of community service, Wufei had to fight the urge to bury himself under the blankets and sleep for another hour.

Normally he kept to a routine and was able to wake up early and face whatever obstacles the day had in store. But today, something just felt _wrong_.

He forced himself to finally get up at seven-thirty and took a shower.

The stream of hot water did little to alleviate his tension, and by the time he was dressed he had succeeded in reminding himself of every minor and major annoyance of the past three Saturdays – starting with getting struck by lightning and continuing up to the point where he learned that he was doing community service with a _prostitute_.

The knowledge that anyone would willing and unashamedly choose to sell their body disgusted Wufei, and his already low opinion of the townie who claimed that crime hit rock bottom.

Wufei wandered out to the kitchen and was surprised to see Meilin awake and cooking breakfast.

"Morning," she greeted him brightly.

Immediately suspicious, Wufei sat down at the counter.

"Why are you awake?" he asked her. "And why are you… happy?"

She shrugged and offered him a smirk.

"I'm awake because I've volunteering at the library in an hour – I'm doing that reading tutor program, remember? – and maybe I'm just happy because I love knowing that you're going to spend the day being completely miserable."

"You're all heart."

"Mm." She set a plate of bacon and pancakes in front of him.

"And cooking? Since when do you cook?"

Meilin, much like Wufei, hated to be anywhere near a kitchen. Ever since moving into the apartment and off campus they had invested considerable time and effort in finding all of the decent take out restaurants in town, and had finally mastered the art of microwaving frozen meals.

This was, Wufei realized, the first time he had even seen Meilin _use _a frying pan.

"Well, there was an interesting discussion in my Gender and Global Health class about the concept of domesticity as a sphere of power instead of diminishment."

"That sounds completely boring," Wufei told her honestly.

She glared.

"That's because _you _are a misogynist."

Wufei shrugged, knowing that while it was an exaggeration, she wasn't completely off base in her accusation.

"Anyway, I don't agree with that at all, but it was pointed out to me that certain privileged Western women are unable to look past their own preconceptions about domesticity. And, since I'm one of those women and I view cooking as the lowest form of servitude that I refuse to subject myself to on a daily basis, I decided to try it."

"I stopped listening as soon as you gave me food," Wufei told her after taking a bite of the pancakes. He instantly regretted it. "What IS this?" He grabbed a paper towel from the counter and spit out his mouthful into it before throwing it away.

"Pancakes?" She said and then smiled sweetly at him. "Of course, I added a tablespoon of salt to yours… so they probably didn't turn out as well as mine."

"_Thanks_." He looked warily at the strips of bacon for a moment before deciding not to risk it. The day would be bad enough without having to battle food poisoning.

He scraped the plate off into the trash.

"Thai tonight?" he asked her on his way to the front door. "Or will you be continuing this experiment in new ways to be a complete bitch?"

"Thai," she confirmed. "Have a great day!" She waved at him and he glared at her before slamming the door behind him.

It had seemed like such a good idea, last spring, to move in with her. They both hated living on campus, and both of their parents were over the moon about the idea of their children finding a Chinese partner at college.

The reality was, however, that Meilin and Wufei could barely tolerate each other. At least they made good roommates – they were both obsessive about laundry and keeping the apartment free of trash and clutter, and they hated cooking in equal measure – but it became more and more difficult to be nice to each other in front of their parents when they came to visit, and even their friends had started to question why they dated.

But as bad as it was, it still beat the alternative – campus housing and nagging from their parents to bring home a nice Chinese girlfriend or boyfriend – so they each suffered through. Typically by making the other suffer as much as possible.

When Wufei arrived at the police station he headed for the dressing room, hoping to be early enough to be able to change in privacy and silence.

No such luck. The room was bustling with activity as everyone it seemed, except for Quatre, were already present and changing.

The townie, Duo, seemed to have targeted Heero and Trowa Barton - Wufei still felt guilty for not recognizing him last week, and even guiltier when he realized that they were in Russian History together - with his attentions. Wufei was grateful that the incredibly irritating man hadn't decided to annoy him yet, and even more grateful that Duo and Trant seemed to have put a little distance between themselves.

"Morning Heero!" the man called brightly as he took his place at the locker between Heero and Trowa.

Heero, predictably, was silent, but Wufei saw him look over at Duo, and instead of looking irritated or disgusted - as Wufei would have been to have the man address him so familiarly - he looked merely...resigned.

"Morning Trowa."

The silent man also offered no verbal response to the townie's greeting, but he smiled, slightly, and that had Duo grinning from ear to ear.

Wufei shook his head and turned away.

As Wufei changed, he caught sight of Trant sneering at Duo as the other man stripped down to his boxers, and Wufei couldn't help but feel a spurt of aggravation at the other man's blatant sexuality. Just because he sold his body - a body that was clearly very fit and eye catching - he didn't have to rub it in everyone else's faces, or encourage Trant's fixation with him by stripping down to just his underwear.

"Do you have no decency?" Wufei growled at him when he seemed in no hurry to pull on his orange coveralls.

Duo looked up and arched an eyebrow at him before smirking.

"See something you like?"

Wufei felt his face flush at the implication and he fought down any emotion the question brought up.

"We all know you're a filthy whore," Trant spoke up, "maybe you -"

Duo rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah. I know. I'm a whore, you hate me just as much as you want to fuck me... we've been over this. A couple of times. It's getting old."

Duo turned away from them and pulled on his coveralls, taking his sweet time zipping them up, and smirking at Wufei when he caught him following the upwards progress of the zipper.

"Anyway, get a move on fellas, we've got a hot date with Sergeant Crazy Face," Duo called out and slammed his locker closed.

Wufei reluctantly took his lead and followed him from the locker room, Trant, Heero, and Trowa not far behind.

When they arrived in the briefing room, Quatre, Relena, and the other girl - Wufei thought her name was Hilde - were already seated.

Duo took his customary seat beside Hilde and even slung an arm around the back of her chair.

Wufei couldn't figure out _what _Duo's sexual orientation was, and it annoyed him that the man seemed to casually flirt with any warm body he came into contact with - male and female alike.

Of course, as a prostitute, he had probably learned to be less than picky when it came to choosing partners, and doing that - selling his body - implied a certain level of appreciation for physical contact. So maybe he was, as Trant so pedantically put it, a filthy whore.

"There will _not _be a repeat of last week," Une barked as she stormed into the room, clearly in a foul mood.

Wufei couldn't help his natural instinct to sit up straighter when she started to yell - and he was relieved that most of the others in the room had the same instinct.

"You will complete the full day of time and you _will _behave. There will be no dawdling, no snooping through the private and confidential files of members of this staff. You are all criminals and clearly have no desire to atone for your crimes, and I am finished babysitting the lot of you. Today you _will _work to earn society's forgiveness. Now get up and get on the bus."

Wufei saw the others exchange wary glances, and he fell into step with Quatre as they all started for the back of the station and the parking lot that Une had ushered them towards the first day of their restitution.

"You were early today," he said to the blonde man.

Quatre sighed.

"Yeah. My father thought it would do me good to sit here, like the pathetic excuse I am, and appreciate my sentence."

Wufei frowned, but refrained from saying anything. He knew that Meilin worried about Quatre, and he also felt concerned for his friend, but Wufei hated to interfere in the lives of others.

He buried his own emotions about the subject - he too had an uneasy relationship with his parents - and sought about for a change of subject.

"How do you do that?" Quatre asked him suddenly, as they took their seats at the front of the bus.

"Do what?"

"Just - um. Never mind. You just seem very centered, like you can just push your emotions aside and clear your mind."

Wufei shrugged.

"Years of practice. Emotions don't help you deal with issues - they cloud them and make you forget what's really important."

Quatre looked doubtful.

"You really feel that way?"

"Yes."

"So even your feelings for Meilin - you don't let those cloud your judgment when the two of you fight, or if she was in danger -"

"I think Meilin and I fight so often because _both _of us set aside our feelings for each other. And she can take care of herself. Obviously I would want to help her, if she was in danger, but she doesn't need me to hold her hand."

Not to mention the fact that she would sooner cut _off _her hand than rely on Wufei - or anyone - for anything if she didn't absolutely have to.

Quatre sighed.

"I really don't understand your relationship at all."

"Most people don't," Wufei assured him. He sighed, remembering Meilin's request. "Speaking of relationships, how are things with you and Relena?"

Quatre shook his head.

"She _still _insists that I'm gay! We've started having lunch together on Tuesdays and Thursdays at the caf, and she keeps pointing out guys I should ask out. She even," Quatre twisted back in his seat to see if anyone was looking at them, "she even suggested I ask out Trowa."

Wufei was amused by the disgust in Quatre's voice.

"He _is _good looking," Wufei pointed out the obvious.

"He's also a _guy_. I'm really, really not gay. But he's troubled - I _should _talk to him. But now if I do, Relena will think I'm giving in or whatever."

"Troubled?"

Quatre nodded and then looked sheepish.

"Troubled how?"

"I don't think he's very happy."

Wufei snorted.

"Who is?"

It was clearly the wrong thing to say. Quatre looked at him with wide eyes, and Wufei could practically _feel _the blonde man trying to read into his words.

"Are you -"

"Leave it, Quatre." Wufei sighed and closed his eyes before leaning back on their shared bench.

He was grateful that the blonde man did, in fact, leave it, and Wufei, alone for the rest of the bus ride.

* * *

><p>It was almost half an hour later that the bus stopped, and Wufei opened his eyes to take in his surroundings.<p>

Une had driven the bus to a field in the middle of nowhere. The only signs of life were a burnt shell of a high rise building situated on a stretch of pavement that looked as big as a box store parking lot, a collection of fire hydrants arrayed around the building, an empty dumpster, and a cargo container.

Everyone filed off the bus, looking irritated and cautious.

"This is the high rise used by the county firefighters for practice. You will spend today removing all of the furniture from the building, breaking it down into small pieces, and loading it into the dumpster, and then placing new furniture into each of the rooms, on all five stories."

"What? That's -"

Une silenced Duo with a glare.

"There will be _no _lunch break today." She threw a box of medical masks in Quatre's direction and then set a large cooler down by his feet. "Winner will provide you with sandwiches, chips and beverages at noon. Use the medical masks so that you don't inhale too much soot, or any lingering gases and particles from the last fire."

"You can't make us do something unsafe!" Relena shrieked. "You can't expose us to chemicals or -"

"Yes, I can. I've provided you with the proper safety equipment."

"I'm going to tell my father about this!"

Une arched an eyebrow.

"Perhaps, if we were in the state of Vermont, then your father the governor would be an intimidating threat, but since he has _no _pull in the state of North Carolina, or the town of Clarkson, I think I'll take my chances." She glared at each of them in turn. "Now get to work!"

They watched her board the bus and drive off.

"This is _such _bullshit!" Duo shouted after the bus.

"Community service isn't supposed to be _fun_," Wufei couldn't help but point out. He took a mask from the box in Quatre's hands. "And if we don't actually do the work today, she seems pissed enough to report us."

Duo grumbled, and looked ready to argue, but then he sighed and grabbed two masks from the box as well, passing one over to Hilde.

"Fuck that," Trant said and grabbed the cooler at Quatre's feet. "You idiots do what you want." He started to walk towards the cargo container.

Heero, Trowa, and eventually Relena took masks from Quatre, and the seven of them approached the tower.

As they entered, Wufei looked over his shoulder to see that Trant had pulled a couch from the container and was now stretched out, eating a bag of chips, and listening to his iPod.

He felt anger start to grow inside of him and he worked quickly to calm himself down. Trant was a tool and a complete waste of oxygen. Wufei had known this since last year. There was no point in getting worked up over it now.

"You have got to be kidding me," Relena said, drawing his attention back to the building.

For once, Wufei completely sympathized with the spoiled girl.

On the first floor there were three rooms, and each room had a variety of heavy, charred furniture. And there were five floors.

"This is going to take forever!" She stamped her foot, and Wufei's brief moment of sympathy evaporated.

"Chill, princess," Duo muttered, he turned to look at the others. "How are we going to do this?"

Wufei was shocked that Duo even bothered to talk to the rest of them before taking his girlfriend and vanishing.

"We should start at the top," Heero said. "Work our way down."

Duo nodded, immediately, and without argument accepting the plan. It went against everything Wufei had come to expect from the other man after their month of Saturdays together.

"You're actually going to help?" he couldn't stop himself from asking.

Duo arched an eyebrow at him.

"Unless you're volunteering to do it all yourself?"

"No, of course not. But you're lazy and -"

"Oh, fuck you." Without another word, Duo started up the stairs, and the others started to follow a moment later.

"I think he's trying to be nice," Quatre said, when he and Wufei were the last ones on the first floor. Above them, Wufei could hear Duo loudly complaining about 'tight asses' and 'jerks.' He looked at Quatre.

"Yes, and what a treat it is."

Quatre rolled his eyes.

"You could _try _being a little less judgmental with him."

Wufei snorted.

"It's not as if I'm the only one judging him. What he did - it should be a felony, not a misdemeanor."

"He said it was just a joke that went wrong," Quatre pointed out.

"Clearly a lie. The cops around here aren't very open minded, but I'm sure they can tell the difference between someone being an annoying idiot and someone _actually _selling themselves."

"Maybe," Quatre said, and the sadness in his voice irritated Wufei, "but he's not... evil incarnate."

"He's rude, he _is _lazy, he has no respect for others, he flirts like it's going out of style, and clearly has no value for his own body or life. He doesn't have to be evil incarnate to not be worth my time."

Not willing to wait for Quatre to continue the argument, Wufei stormed past him and went into one of the bedrooms on the first floor. If the others wanted to start from the top and work their way down - they were welcome to do so. Wufei worked better on his own anyway.

* * *

><p>By noon it sounded like the others had reached the third floor. They seemed to be shoving all of the furniture from one level down to the next, and had clearly accumulated more than they thought logical - if Duo, Hilde, and Relena's protests were anything to go by.<p>

Wufei had succeeded in clearly out the entire first floor on his own, taking each piece of furniture to the dumpster and breaking it down into the smallest possible parts before throwing it in.

Each of the eighteen trips he made to the dumpster earned him jeers and mocking applause from Trant, who seemed perfectly content to just sit on his ass all day and eat everyone else's food.

When the others stomped down the stairs to take their lunch break, Wufei was dragging the last piece of furniture, a battered and barely recognizable couch, out to the dumpster.

He struggled a bit under the weight, and wasn't surprised when Quatre jumped in to help him.

"You're kind of an idiot," Quatre told him conversationally as they heft it into the dumpster together. "It's actually been... nice working with the others."

Wufei didn't doubt it.

While he had heard the faint, distant stream of cussing from Duo and whinging from Relena, he had also heard several bursts of laughter from Quatre, Hilde, Relena, Duo, and even, he thought, Heero and Trowa at one point. He refused to feel jealous or left out, however, and just shrugged it off.

"Okay, Trant, I need the cooler," Quatre said to his fellow soccer player.

Trant made a show of removing his earbuds.

"I'm sorry, what was that, Princess?"

Trant had seemingly decided to _only _refer to Quatre by that nickname, and each time he said it Quatre seemed to take more and more offense to it.

"Dude, stop being such a jack ass and just give Junior Deputy the cooler," Duo growled. He had pulled his mask off and he shoved it into a pocket before approaching Trant. "You've been out here getting a tan for your pasty ass while we've been working. So give over the damn food."

He reached to take the cooler, but Trant lashed out and kicked Duo in the gut, sending the other man stumbling backwards with a wince.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Duo staggered upright.

"Trant! Stop it!" Quatre shouted when the soccer player rose from the couch and started towards Duo.

Wufei had to admire the townie, just a little, when he refused to back down from the other man, who had at least fifty pounds and six inches on him.

"Besides, I think you need to _earn _it," Trant told Duo, completely ignoring Quatre and the others.

Duo's eyes narrowed.

"You -"

"Duo, don't!" Hilde suddenly called out, and Duo looked away from Trant.

Trant took the momentary distraction and picked up the cooler. Instead of stalking off with it, he swung it against the side of Duo's head.

Wufei winced at the sound of the impact, and he heard Relena shriek. Duo crumpled to the ground.

"Take it, then,"Trant said and walked away, into the high rise.

Hilde and Quatre were almost instantly at Duo's side, and even Heero and Trowa stepped closer.

"Fucking hell, Duo! Are you okay? Duo!"

"Stop yelling at me," the man on the ground muttered and blinked open dazed, indigo eyes. He rubbed the side of his head, and Wufei wasn't surprised to see his hand come away bloody.

After a moment, Duo struggled to stand, and accepted the hand that Trowa offered to help get him to his feet.

He staggered over to the couch and sat down.

"Fuck, Hilde, why did you tell me to stop? I was just going to punch him."

"It would have been worse," she said, and joined him on the couch, tucking one leg under her body and sitting as close as she could.

"Worse than getting brained by a fucking cooler?" Duo groused.

"There's a metal bar - the lock bar for the container, over there on the ground. He -" she abruptly stopped talking and looked around, as if just remembering that they weren't alone.

"Are you seriously suggesting that Trant would have used a metal _bar _on him?" Wufei scoffed. "He's annoying, but even Trant knows we can't _kill _him."

Everyone, even Relena, turned to glare at him.

"Here's some water. It's not ice, but it's still pretty cool, it should feel good against your head," Quatre spoke up into the tense, angry silence. He handed Duo a bottle of water.

"Thanks." Duo accepted it and held it against the side of his head with a wince of pain.

Quatre looked into the cooler and sighed.

"He ate all of the chips... and there are only three sandwiches left..."

"I'm not hungry," Trowa spoke up.

"Bullshit. You've been moving just as much shit as the rest of us. We can split them - if that's okay with _you_?" Duo added the last with a sneer in Wufei's direction. "Or, because I think it's a good idea, are you going to go on a hunger strike?"

"We can split one- Hilde, you and I, right?" Relena spoke up before Wufei could respond.

Hilde nodded emphatically. "She and I can have half, you can have the other half - the rest of the guys can split the other two."

"Actually _I'm_ not hungry," Duo said.

"Do you feel nauseous? Can you focus on my fingers?" Hilde jumped in front of Duo and guided two fingers in front of his face. "You could have a concussion."

"I'm _fine_. Just - you two share the damn sandwich. I'll eat when we get home tonight. We aren't stranded on a desert island, fighting over the last of the coconuts or some shit."

She looked ready to protest, but after a moment sighed and shrugged.

"Okay."

Quatre passed out the remaining sandwiches, giving one to Hilde, one to Heero, and one to Wufei.

Relena sat down on the other side of Hilde on the couch, and after a moment and a look of silent communication, Heero and Trowa pulled another sofa out of the container.

Quatre took his half of the sandwich from Wufei and sat with the two men.

He fought down his resentment at there being no room for him on _either _couch, and instead sat on the pavement, mentally assuring himself that the couches were no doubt infested with lice or some other parasite.

"Have you picked a topic for the Humanities essay yet?" Quatre spoke up after a few minutes of silence, directing his question to Trowa.

The quiet man frowned and then shrugged one shoulder.

"I'm thinking the unsustainable economic practices of the Roman Empire," he said when Quatre continued to look expectant.

Quatre nodded.

"I've started researching the Almoravid Empire in Spain. I don't know what I'm going to go with for a thesis yet, but it's interesting so far." He turned to Relena. "Aren't you taking Cook's section?"

She nodded and then gave a dramatic sigh.

"He is so boring - right Heero?"

The other man frowned, clearly put out at being addressed by Relena.

"I don't think so," he said. "He just has a very materialistic view of history."

And suddenly, somehow, the four of them started discussing classes, completely excluding Wufei - despite the fact that he had history with Trowa, Chemistry with Quatre, and Western Political Philosophy with Relena. For all that they addressed him, he might as well have been one of the townies.

Both Hilde and Duo looked strangely content, sitting practically on top of each other, as the others conversed about something they clearly had no interest or connection to.

The fact that Duo, who seemed keen to be the center of attention at all times, was actually sitting there silently and not making snide remarks was too much for Wufei.

It was as if the rest of them had entered into some conspiracy against him.

He finished his sandwich and threw the wrapper into the dumpster before snapping his mask back in place and stalking into the fire house.

Let them pretend to be friends if they wanted. He just wanted this day - and the four more Saturdays he had remaining - to end as soon as possible.

* * *

><p>After half an hour of working by himself, the others filtered in and started to haul furniture down, working around Wufei, and still chatting with each other.<p>

Relena and Hilde passed him, carrying a dresser, debating the merits of red versus black nail polish.

Quatre and Heero carried down a mattress while discussing math homework.

Duo and Trowa walked past, a couch balanced between them, _smiling _at each other.

Trant was still nowhere to be seen, and Wufei was finding it difficult to move furniture on his own with the others constantly moving past him, so he decided to go back outside and haul furniture out of the container, since the next step would be putting it into the now nearly empty high rise.

It was two-thirty when the others finished loading furniture into the now overflowing dumpster, and Wufei had managed to empty the container and spread furniture across the pavement, out of the way of their path to the dumpster.

Relena and Hilde flopped down on the original couch.

"God, I'm exhausted!" Relena groaned.

The others reached into the cooler and pulled out the last of the water bottles, quickly emptying them, and Wufei was grateful that he had thought to grab one for himself earlier. It was clear the others weren't thinking about him at all.

"So, what now?" Duo sat down on the other couch, joined by Trowa a moment later, summoned by a tired wink from Duo.

Wufei had no idea what was going on there - it didn't seem as if Duo was putting _any _effort into flirting with him, not like he put into flirting with Hilde at least - but Trowa seemed to be responding to him as if he actually _enjoyed _the townie's attention.

"I don't think we're going to finish this today," Quatre said with a sigh. "There's just no way we can get all this furniture situated in ALL of the rooms."

"Une will kill us if we don't," Relena pointed out.

"Look, she never gave us a blue print for interior decorating," Hilde pointed out. "And since not _all _of us are geniuses, maybe we figured that each room needed a lot of furniture, and somehow we only made it to the second or third floor… totally not our fault."

"I _like _the way you think," Relena said, smiling at the other girl.

Hilde smirked back and then looked at the others to comment on her plan.

"Better than just leaving it out here," Duo agreed. "And who knows – maybe she won't be bitchy when she gets here. Maybe she'll be in her 'oh please let's be kind' mood."

"Which is way creepier," Hilde muttered.

Silently, Wufei agreed. Two weeks ago, when Une had slapped Duo, he had felt both satisfaction and shock, but when she had transformed into some strange, delicate version of herself afterwards it had been more than a little scary.

"So… teams of two?" Duo suggested and rose to his feet.

"There are seven of us," Wufei pointed out.

Duo turned to him, and then did a double take.

"Holy shit – are you – are you _communicating _with me?"

Wufei rolled his eyes at Duo's dramatics.

"Get over yourself."

"Me? You get over yourself. Seriously, all day – _every _day we've been in community service – you've had a huge stick up your ass."

Wufei sneered and then picked up the nearest piece of furniture he could move and carried it into the house, deciding to just ignore everyone for the rest of the day.

It was easier said than done – he continually had to walk past the others on his treks back outside to get new furniture as they did the same, and even _Heero _shot him a look of disappointment at one point.

Heero wasn't friendly to anyone! Where did he get off being disappointed in Wufei for calling Duo out on being self-absorbed and a general pain in the ass? It was ridiculous, and the more he thought about it, the angrier he became.

It was just after four when they hauled the last of the furniture – the couch that Trant had pulled out – up to the third floor and situated it in one of the rooms.

"I guess we _could _have done the entire five floors," Quatre mused, looking guiltily at his watch.

"Too late now," Duo said and sat down on the floor across from the couch. Trowa sat down near him, and Heero and Quatre stretched out side by side on the bed.

Relena and Hilde wasted no time climbing on to the couch, propping their feet in each other's laps, and proceeded to start painting each other's toenails.

Wufei thought about going into another room to sit by himself, but there _was _an easy chair in one corner of the room – and he _had _carried it up by himself.

He sat down in it, expecting Duo to unleash a stream of insults at his presence, but the braided man had his eyes closed and appeared to be taking a nap while leaning against the wall.

Wufei could feel the burn of exercise and exhaustion in his muscles, and as thoroughly unpleasant as the day had been, it was nice to feel this physically drained. He tried to focus on getting rid of his negative emotions and just let go of his anger at Duo, the others, and the world in general.

He didn't know how much time had passed, but he must have nodded off.

When he woke it was to the sound of raised voices.

Trant had finally reappeared, and was lounging in the doorway, making snide comments about Duo getting in line to get HIS nails painted, and the townie had predictably risen to the bait and was in the middle of a colorful string of obscenities.

"Shut up," Wufei groaned. "The two of you should just get it over with and screw each other."

Both men turned red.

"I'm not gay!" Trant shouted at the same time that Duo launched into a tirade opposing bestiality.

" –because he's clearly not a sentient being," Duo finished after several graphic descriptions of sexual acts that Wufei could have done without.

"Deny it all you want, but it's clear that there is something between you. I'm not sure I can take another month of you two doing this."

"I can't take another month of it," Duo assured him. "But apparently throwing a fucking cooler at my head and punching me in the face is just foreplay, according to you, so maybe I just haven't warmed up to him yet."

"Fuck you," Trant said. "As if I would _ever_–"

"Get over it. We _both _know what you said and did last –"

"_What _is going on here?"

Everyone froze at the sound of Une's voice.

She seemed to have materialized out of thin air and was standing just beyond Trant's shoulder, glaring at all of them.

"We finished," Relena said brightly and added another stroke of red to Hilde's toes.

Une's eyes widened and then narrowed and she stormed into the room.

"This is _not _a slumber party!" She grabbed the nail polish from first Relena and then Hilde and threw them against the wall, narrowly missing Wufei's head, and they shattered against the burnt, soot covered walls.

"Jesus Christ!" Duo shouted. "What the hell is your problem? Old furniture is out, new furniture is in!"

He stood up, and Une advanced on him.

"_You_!" She shouted.

"Yeah, _me_!" He shouted back. "_Me _who, for those of you who missed it, was hit in the fucking head with a _cooler _today and still did my fucking work."

"Stop making excuses for your criminal behavior."

"I'm not making excuses! And for fuck's sake, you need to _calm _down. Seriously. Take a yoga class or –"

He stopped talking when Une drew her gun on him.

Once again, everyone in the room seemed to freeze.

"Sergeant Une, what are you doing?" Quatre slowly got off the bed and walked into Une's line of sight.

"Don't interfere, Winner. Just go back to being a disappointment to your father and everyone who has ever met you," Une barked.

Quatre paled.

"I think you're overreacting, Sergeant Une. Why don't we all just go back to the station and –"

"You all think this is just a game, don't you?" Une snarled, turning and waving the gun at the room. "It isn't! I've spent my career babysitting pathetic idiots like you, and I am _done _with it. DO you hear me? Done. None of you are worth my time. There's a murderer on the loose, a disgusting, depraved creature who has killed _ten _people and I have to leave the scene of the crime to pick you delinquents up and take you back to the station!"

"There was another murder?" Quatre asked.

"That's what I said, Winner! Four more people murdered, ripped to shreds and left in the woods."

"So… the sooner you put up the fucking gun and take us back to the station, the sooner you can go commune with the bloody bodies," Duo pointed out.

Une focused back on him, directing her gun at his head.

"You disgust me. Do you have any idea how –"

"Don't do it!" Hilde screamed suddenly, lunging up from the couch and throwing herself at Une's back.

Duo threw himself to the ground just as the deafening sound of gunfire echoed in the room.

Wufei jumped out of his chair, with no idea what to do, but a desire to be on his feet and _moving _forcing him to act.

"You attacked me!" Une yelled and slapped Hilde across the face with the butt of her gun.

"You crazy bitch!" Duo, cleared unharmed, threw himself on top of Une and pulled her away from his girlfriend.

Several more gunshots rang out, and Relena shrieked as a bullet buried itself in the couch beside her leg.

"Do something!" Hilde screamed, looking at Wufei.

"Me? What the hell am I supposed to do?" He screamed back at her.

"You _know _what to do, you asshole!" She shouted.

Une rose to her feet, kicking free of Duo and Hilde, and pointed the gun down at them.

Her glasses were askew and there was a trickle of blood running down the side of her face.

"Well. I could take you back and bring you up on charges," she said in her quiet, scarily passive voice. "But why go through the hassle of paperwork for something so unsatisfying? Especially when I can instead tell everyone that two of you… let's see… Trant and Heero. Yes. I can tell everyone that Trant and Heero jumped me, took my gun, and decided to kill the two of you," she waved the gun between Duo and Hilde. "It isn't like anyone would miss the two of _you_. And with _their _convictions, it would be easy enough to believe."

"Except that the rest of us would tell the truth!" Relena pointed out.

"Then I might as well kill you all. The world would certainly be a better place."

She smiled and aimed the gun back at Duo's head.

"You first. You've already wasted too much of my time with your prattling."

"Wufei!" Hilde shouted again. "You have to _do _it!"

He had a sudden understanding of what she was talking about. He looked at her, and her wide, dark gaze met his. She knew. She _knew_.

"_Please_!"

Almost without conscious thought, he summoned all of his anger and rage, every negative emotion that had been brewing all day, and he screamed, releasing his fury.

Jets of fire erupted from his hands and he aimed at Une before forcing all of it – his anger, his hate, his _fire_– at her.

It took only seconds for the flames to reach her, and they immediately engulfed her.

Une screamed. Relena screamed. Trant started shouting.

Hilde and Duo scrambled out of the way as Une started flailing about the room, still screaming, as the fire consumed her.

She suddenly tumbled towards Relena, and Quatre dove forward and shoved Une out of the door with enough force to send her careening backwards. She stumbled against the stairway railing and then flipped over, disappearing from their sight.

A moment later there was a wail and then a faint, decidedly fatal sounding THUMP.

"What the _fuck _just happened?" Duo demanded.

Wufei ignored him and walked out of the room to look over the railing.

Une had fallen to the first floor landing, and her body, still burning, was at such an unnatural angle that she _had _to be dead.

"We… we just killed Sergeant Une." Quatre looked like he was going to be sick.

"Uh, _you _just killed her," Trant pointed out, and then turned on Wufei. "And you, you crazy fucking freak. _You _lit that bitch on fucking fire!"

Which reminded Wufei…

"How did you know?" he asked Hilde. "How did you know what I can do?"

She looked sheepish.

"You can see the future," Quatre said as he came back into the room. "Can't you?"

She nodded uneasily.

"I can hear people thoughts," Quatre confided with a relieved sigh.

"No you can't," Trant scoffed.

Quatre glared at him.

"I'm not even going to _say _what you're thinking about right now. No one needs to hear it. Just know that I know _exactly _how disgusting you are."

"I can… convince people to do what I want," Relena said hesitantly. "If I touch them."

Duo sighed.

"Yeah, I can move really fast. And hear things. And feel things. And smell things. So, Trant, please take a fucking shower, k?"

"What about you?" Wufei asked Heero.

He shrugged.

"I can't do anything."

"Loser," Trant said with a smirk.

"So I'm a freak for being able to control fire but he's a loser for not being able to do anything?" Wufei demanded.

"Well, yeah."

"Can you do anything?" Quatre asked Trant.

The larger man smirked.

"Yeah. Ever since we were struck with lightning I've been really, really strong. I can bench press something like ten times my body weight like it's nothing."

The thought that Trant, practically a Neanderthal, had that kind of strength was far from comforting to Wufei.

"Wait, you've got super strength and we've spent all day moving furniture while you sat on your _ass_?" Hilde demanded.

He smirked at her.

"Maybe if you didn't suck so much as seeing the future you'd have known earlier."

"What are we going to do about Une?" Trowa spoke up.

"Shit. What _are _we going to do about her?" Duo echoed and rose to his feet. He helped Hilde up.

"Not my problem," Trant said. "I didn't touch the bitch."

"We're all in this," Quatre told him sternly.

"No, we aren't. I –"

Relena abruptly reached out and grabbed his hand.

"Trant, why don't we walk downstairs and move Une's body?"

"Yeah," he agreed, his voice slightly dreamy.

"Fucking scary," Duo muttered as Trant and Relena walked from the room, Relena still holding his hand.

Silently, Wufei agreed.

"We should just tell the cops that she went crazy and attacked us," Quatre said when they all crowded around her body, now just a charred shell.

"Right. What, exactly, do you plan on telling them?" Duo demanded.

"That it was all an accident?"

"So, Crazy Face _accidentally _shot at us a couple of time. Tight Ass over there _accidentally _torched her with his magic fire. And you, Junior Deputy, _accidentally shoved_ her over an open stairwell and she _accidentally _fell three storeys to her death. Plus, we're all criminals. Yeah. We're going to need a plan B."

"In this state, her body is still identifiable," Trowa offered. "If we're going to hide it, she needs to be… burned more." He looked over at Wufei.

Wufei sighed.

"Fine. Let's put her in the dumpster with the burnt furniture and I can light the whole thing."

"So we need to… pick her up?" Duo asked with a look of disgust.

"Or get arrested for murder," Wufei growled.

"But she's… gross."

Relena rolled her eyes.

"Trant, pick her up and take her to the dumpster," she commanded the other man.

Robotically, he followed her commands, and the others trailed after them.

"What happens when you let go?" Hilde asked Relena.

The blonde girl shrugged.

"He won't do what I tell him anymore, but he also won't question having followed my commands. It's kind of neat."

"Yeah," Hilde agreed, but edged away from her.

Wufei doubted Hilde would be inviting Relena to paint her toenails again in the future.

Trant threw Une's body into the dumpster and Wufei once again summoned his anger and used it to start a fire that soon had the entire dumpster alight.

"So… how do we explain Une vanishing but the bus being here?" Relena asked after several minutes of silence as they watched the fire burn.

"She went crazy and ran off, leaving it here?" Duo hazarded.

"That's idiotic," Wufei assured him.

"Then what do _you _suggest?" Duo snapped back at him.

"We should drive it somewhere secluded and abandon it," Heero suggested. "Then walk back."

Wufei found it odd, and more than a little unsettling, that both Heero and Trowa – normally so quiet they bordered on being mute – were speaking up and offering the most logical suggestions for how to dispose of the evidence of a murder.

"Okay, let's hop on board the magical fucked up murder bus," Duo said. "I think I know just the place we can ditch it."

Just the place turned out to involve off-roading in a vehicle designed to have difficulty going over speed bumps. By the time Duo parked the bus, deep in the woods near the lake, it was dusk and the sky was streaked with vibrant colors.

"Maybe you should light it up, just to be safe," Duo suggested to Wufei.

"It could start a forest fire," Wufei snapped.

Duo shrugged.

"With as much rain as we've been getting over the past month? It's not like we're in drought conditions. Damn, wouldn't it be handy if one of us could make it rain? You could light that baby up… let it burn for a while and then presto!"

"Presto?" Wufei echoed in disgust.

"Fuck off. Are you going to light it or what?"

Wufei sighed.

"No. Our finger prints are all over it – but they're supposed to be. She did drive us _to _the building, after all. We don't need to burn it."

Duo shrugged.

"Whatever. Well, we'd better start walking back now… if we're lucky we'll make it back to Clarkson by eight."

"I'll just call my father and tell him that Une never showed and we started walking back," Quatre suggested. "We can keep heading towards town, and he'll pick us up."

"Sure he won't make us walk the whole way just because?" Wufei countered, remembering Quatre's words that morning.

The blonde man frowned.

"Just call him," Relena said.

Quatre pulled out his cellphone.

"Damnit. I don't have a signal."

"Fucking perfect," Duo muttered. "Let's start walking."

-0-

It was closer to nine by the time they made it back to the police station. By the time any of their phones had service they were almost to the city limits, so Wufei texted Meilin that he would be home in half an hour, but they decided not to bother calling Quatre's father.

When they arrived at the station it was nearly empty.

"You guys just change and go, I'll tell my Dad what happened," Quatre said, sounding just as exhausted as Wufei felt.

"You sure?" Duo asked, frowning. "We could stay. Back you up."

"Fuck it. I'm leaving." Trant announced.

Relena had eventually, during their hike back to town, decided to release him. He had been his usual surly self ever since, but strangely seemed to accept the fact that he had helped dispose of Une's body and didn't question it.

"It's fine," Quatre assured them.

Wufei gratefully took the out and wasted no time changing back into his street clothes.

He didn't bother telling the others goodbye, but simply left the station and walked the two blocks to his apartment.

"So, how was your torture today?" Meilin called out when he walked in.

Wufei toed off his shoes and drew a deep breath, catching the scent of the Thai food filling his nostrils and pushing his exhaustion, anger and resentment to the back of his mind.

"The worst day of my entire life," he assured her and walked into the kitchen.

She looked up from dishing out Pad Thai from a to-go box onto two plates and frowned when she realized how tired he no doubt looked.

"What happened?"

"Two of us almost died - one of them twice - and then we killed our probation officer and had to destroy her body. And," he drew in a deep breath and met her dark, wide gaze, "you and I aren't the only ones."


	6. Chapter 6

Warnings: Angst, violence, language, drug use, abuse, supernatural things, sex, yaoi, yuri, het. If you desperately need to know who is paired with who send me a message and I can tell you, but I'd rather you get to experience the evolution of the characters first.

A/N: Based on Misfits, but draws from X-Men, Smallville, and Heroes as well. These kids aren't the complete burnouts that the Misfits are, but they are NOT perfect angels. Be warned.

A/N #2: Thanks to the always amazing Cuzo, more than a beta and no less than a friend.

A/N#3: A special thanks to Snowdragonct, who has been so encouraging and supportive since I first started writing here. Thank you for your advice, conversation, and general brilliance. Also, you are a badass AND a classy lady.

A/N#4: I want to give credit to Cuzo for suggesting Heero's powers be Storm-like. It saved me from the terrible mistake of giving him super lame powers, and I'm glad that so many of you have enjoyed her recommendation as well. Thank you for saving Heero!

**Deviant**

Deviant Chapter 6

The girl's dark hair felt like silk in Hilde's fingers, and the press of her strong, slender body, so soft and smooth, felt like heaven.

They kissed, and Hilde felt like the world could end and she wouldn't notice, or care.

The girl moaned in pleasure when Hilde nipped at her earlobe and ran her hands down to explore her body.

Hilde finally realized that the sound of the girl moaning sounded less like moaning and more like... her alarm going off.

With a groan, Hilde rolled out of bed and glared at her phone, wishing it would just fly into her hand. Telekinesis, now _that _would have been a handy power. Not like her sporadic visions of the future. Which, so far, had saved her best friend's life, but had been useful for little else.

Aside from giving her fodder for sexual fantasies involving a beautiful Chinese girl.

Hilde groaned. She had had the vision last week while in the middle of making lasagna for dinner, and it had stayed with her ever since, fueling her dreams and making her act, she knew, a little crazy.

The vision wasn't very detailed or explicit - although Hilde's dreams had certainly made it _very _explicit - just the glimpse and feel of a petite, gorgeous Chinese girl in Hilde's arms, kissing her as though her life depended on it.

She forced herself to get up and put the vision, and her dreams, out of her mind.

After taking a shower and dressing, she knocked on Duo's closed door.

"I'm going to make breakfast – get your lazy ass up!" She shouted and listened for a response.

Hearing nothing – not even a cranky, mumbled 'go to hell' – his usual morning greeting – Hilde opened the door.

The room was empty.

She sighed. It was the third time this week that Duo hadn't spent the night in his own bed.

Part of her was happy that he seemed to have found someone to screw all night long, but part of her was also insanely jealous. _She _wanted to get laid, too – she _needed _to. At least, when both of them were without partners, they could be miserable and cranky together. But now Duo had apparently hooked up with someone, and hadn't even bothered to tell her anything about it.

She went to the kitchen and started to prepare a frittata, allowing herself to silently fume as she went through the familiar and comforting motions of cooking.

Being a lesbian in Clarkson was only a very small step up from being gay. While Duo struggled to find anyone to date, Hilde had to actually fend off offers every once in a while from drunken college girls in the mood for experimentation. She didn't have Duo's issues with Clarkson students, but she did _not _enjoy fooling around with a girl only to have her freak out as she started to sober up. So she, too, avoided Clarkson students.

Which meant she pretty much avoided her entire pool of available dates. There was, of course, Susan at the nursing home. But Susan was an older, matronly woman who Hilde just could _not _see herself ever going down on. There was also Beth, at the bank, but Beth… Beth was smooth and polished and while she clearly found Hilde interesting she also clearly found her to be a little uncouth – and she hated pot, an opinion she had voiced on several occasions.

So Hilde, like Duo, had become accustomed to long dry spells between her few opportunities for relationships.

"Morning!"

Hilde had been so wrapped up in her thoughts that she hadn't heard Duo come in.

He joined her in the kitchen, dropping a kiss on her forehead, and grinning like a madman.

Or like someone who had just had a night of amazing sex.

"Morning," she growled in irritation.

"Smells great," Duo said before sitting down on a stool across from the counter.

"I take it the sex was good?"

Duo chuckled.

"I'm sure it _will _be_,_ but we aren't there yet."

Somehow that was even more frustrating to her. She turned on him.

"Are you finally going to tell me about him?"

Duo opened his mouth to say something, and then looked sheepish.

"It's… Hilde, I -"

Duo didn't normally stumble over words. He usually said whatever he wanted to and always had a witty comeback for whatever was flung in his direction. Seeing him hesitate now made her suspicious.

"Duo. Spit it out. _Who _is he?"

"It's not anything big or –"

"Bullshit, Duo Maxwell. I call _bullshit_. You've spent three nights with this guy – and I _know _what kind of intimacy issues you have. You hate sleeping with people – screwing them you're fine with, but cuddling scares the shit out of you. So do not sit there and tell me that spending three nights _cuddling _with some guy isn't anything big. I know you."

"So you haven't seen anything? About me and him?" he asked casually, and Hilde suddenly realized why he was being cautious.

"No, or I wouldn't have to ask. Duo, this isn't something I can really control. It just kind of comes and goes." She thought of the Chinese girl and wished, not for the first time, that she could just see more – feel more. She had been on pins and needles for all of her shifts at the Ice Cream Shop – every time anyone entered the shop she looked up to see if it was her dream girl, but it hadn't been.

"Okay. But if I tell you, then you might start to think about it and then –"

"Duo, what are you babbling about?"

"I don't want to know the future," he snapped and then looked immediately guilty. "I'm sorry. That's not – Hilde, you have this amazing gift. And it's saved my life – at least twice – and I'm really, really grateful for that." He sighed. "But I don't… I _can't_ know what happens to us."

Hilde frowned and then she saw the fear in Duo's eyes.

"Duo, not everyone you care about is going to _die _on you! How many times have we talked about this?"

He shook his head.

"No, I know, but, Hilde –"

"Duo! Stop it! You have _got _to stop going around convinced that the world is going to go to shit at any minute!"

Duo sighed.

"He tried to kill himself, okay? Last year he took a razor to his throat and –" Duo swallowed hard. "And I like him. A lot. So this isn't about my egocentric belief that everyone I love is going to die. This is different. And if you see me in the future – if you see me and you don't see _him_– I don't want to know. If something's going to happen to him, to us – I just want it to happen. I cannot sit here and look for signs or clues or whatever. I can't."

Hilde drew in a deep breath and forced herself not to start yelling at him.

She knew Duo's brother had killed himself, and she knew how much Duo blamed himself for it – for not seeing a sign or anything – and she knew that despite his carefree exterior, Duo got all too easily attached to people.

"Who is he?" She asked softly.

"It's Trowa."

Hilde frowned, trying to place the name. It took her a moment.

"Creepy quiet guy? You're dating creepy quiet guy?" She had coined the term months ago, when Duo first described the "tall, ridiculously handsome, quiet" guy who came in to get coffee from him every morning. When Duo had pointed Trowa out to her during their first day of community service – as he had stood and stared listlessly at the duck pond at the park – her theory that he was creepy and not Duo's type had been cemented.

Learning that he had attempted suicide did nothing to endear him to her.

"He is _not _creepy!" Duo snapped.

Hilde shook her head but turned back to breakfast before it was ruined.

When she finally set his plate in front of him, Duo looked up at her, and it was clear that he was torn.

"He's a great guy, Hil. Really funny, and really, insanely hot. And he does this thing with his tongue when we –"

"Duo, what happens when he kills himself and you're left all alone again?" It was harsh, but it was exactly the future that Hilde envisioned – only without actually having a vision of it.

"Hilde, we've been dating for two weeks. I'm not picking out fucking engagement rings. And he _promised _he wouldn't do it again. He –"

"Duo Maxwell! You are not a moron! He _promised_? Duo, that is – why are you doing this to yourself? I know you're lonely, but –"

"Hilde. I like him. I'm dating him. That's all there is to it." Duo's voice was firm, and his eyes held a fair amount of ice in them when he looked at her.

"_Fine_. Fine. I'm sorry, I just –" she stopped, thinking back to what he had said. "Why don't you want me to tell you, if I _do _see you with him in the future?"

"I don't want to jinx it," he muttered self-consciously. "I mean, what if you _do _see us together and I start to get complacent – because _you _saw it happen, right? And then, what if it doesn't? What if I somehow do something to change the future, just by knowing?" He shook his head. "You telling me every time you see me dying in the future – that I'm totally fine with. Please, _please _tell me that. But everything else… I just want it to happen."

She sighed.

"What if I… what if I see him killing himself?"

Duo swallowed hard and looked away.

"Yeah, okay. That one you can tell me about."

She reached out and ruffled his bangs.

"I just want you to be happy," she said.

He caught her hand and squeezed it.

"I know." He sighed and looked at his watch. "Shit. I gotta run or I'm going to be late opening the coffee shop. We still on for the Watchmen tonight when you get home?"

She nodded.

"Definitely."

"Good. It's been too long since I got to ogle giant blue cock."

Hilde rolled her eyes at that, but Duo grinned and pushed back from the counter.

She watched him walk to his bedroom to change into fresh clothes and resisted the urge to sigh.

It was Duo's life. Not hers.

* * *

><p>When Hilde's shift at the nursing home ended that afternoon she decided to visit Duo at Joe's before heading over to the Ice Cream Shop for her evening shift.<p>

It was mid afternoon, so the coffee shop was filled with Clarkson students scribbling away in notebooks oR typing on laptops while indulging in overpriced coffee.

As Hilde walked in she spotted Duo, not behind the counter, but leaning against a café table near the back wall of the shop. Seated at the table was none other than creepy quiet guy.

Hilde sighed.

It was clear that Duo was enjoying his conversation with Trowa, and Hilde could actually see Trowa smile, ever so slightly, when Duo laughed.

So maybe he was funny. And she could admit that he looked like he had stepped off the cover of a GQ magazine – but he was still creepy and he was still quiet. And suicidal.

Hilde moved to the front counter, hoping to attract Duo's attention without having to actually go over and talk to Trowa, but she was bumped out of the way by a dark haired girl who was headed in the same direction.

"Sorry," Hilde said, instinctively stepping aside.

The other girl turned to glare at her, and Hilde momentarily forgot how to breathe.

It was the Chinese girl, from her vision.

Of course, in Hilde's vision her eyes had been filled with heat and passion – not narrowed in irritation like they were now.

The girl moved past Hilde and stepped up to the counter.

Hilde could only stare at her, entranced.

She was maybe an inch or two shorter than Hilde, but their frames were similar. The girl's hair was chin length, cut in a sharp, asymmetrical bob that left the right side of her hair almost three inches longer than the left.

Hilde stepped up behind her and listened as she gave her order to Duo.

The girl was dressed like a Clarkson student – from her red and black Clarkson t-shirt down to her short khaki shorts, her TOMS shoes, and her Vera Bradley purse.

It should have been off-putting – her attitude and attire – but Hilde found it strangely attractive.

"One Chai tea," Duo chirped as he handed the girl the drink.

"Thanks," the girl said.

Hilde prayed that she paid for the drink with a credit card so that she could pester Duo to see her name – and then caught herself. What was _wrong _with her?

Nothing. Nothing except the fact that this was literally the girl of her dreams. It had been a while since Hilde had been in a relationship, but even so – the kiss she had experienced in her vision had been amazing. Definitely worth being a little stalkerish.

Unfortunately, the girl paid with cash.

She turned and before Hilde could move out of her way, the two girls collided again.

Hilde felt the burn of hot liquid immediately seep into her shirt and scald her skin.

"Shit!" she couldn't help but cry.

"Fuck!" the other girl said at the exact moment.

They stood there staring at each other for a moment, both liberally doused in tea, both clearly miserable.

Hilde started to apologize, taking in the look of complete anger on the girl's face.

"I'm so –"

"Stop it. It was an accident," the girl snapped and then drew in a deep breath. She plucked at her shirt, trying to pull it away from her body, and that drew Hilde's attention to her chest.

Hilde liked boobs – always had, always would. She wasn't necessarily a fan of large breasts. Her own were, she had always felt, a little on the small side, but in proportion to her frame. The girl's however, were divine. Absolutely perfect looking – and with her shirt plastered to her as it was, Hilde could even –

"You ladies okay?" Duo's voice interrupted her leering. He was smirking.

Hilde looked away, flushing red.

"Soaked in tea," she pointed out.

Duo frowned.

"Damn. That you are. Here," he reached back behind the counter and grabbed two garishly bright Java Joe's t-shirts and passed them to Hilde. "Bathroom's in the back if you want to clean up and put these on instead."

"Thank you," the girl said. She looked at Hilde. "Shall we?"

Hilde nodded and led the way.

They passed by Trowa's table and she caught the amused twinkle in his eye and glared at him. Maybe it _was _funny, but he was creepy quiet guy – he didn't get to laugh at her.

"You go first," Hilde said and handed the girl a shirt before directing her to the single occupancy bathroom.

She rolled her eyes.

"We can share the bathroom – unless you needed to use it? – I'm not going to make you wait just to get out of a wet shirt." The girl gestured and Hilde stepped in.

The girl locked the door behind them and immediately pulled off her shirt.

Hilde forced herself to look at the wall and focused on the poster of Mt. Everest.

She pulled off her shirt and winced. Her bra was also completely soaked through.

"Damn, I got you good," the girl said.

Hilde looked over at her and instantly regretted it.

The girl had pulled off her shirt and now stood in only her shorts and a black, lacy bra that was just this side of see-thru.

Hilde swallowed hard.

"Yeah," she agreed.

She didn't have enough time to go home and get a new bra, but it would be hell to work for the next six hours with a wet bra. She sighed.

"It's not ruined," the girl spoke up. "Is it?"

"What? No." Hilde was insanely glad that she had worn her Victoria's Secret sports bra. She had purchased it during their semi-annual sale for seven dollars. It was, pathetically, her favorite bra. Despite the fact that it was bright pink.

"Good."

The girl smirked at her, and Hilde was reminded of her vision. This girl was a lesbian – and she clearly thought that Hilde was attractive.

"I'm Hilde," she said and stuck out her hand.

"Meilin," the girl said and accepted it, shaking it lightly before letting go.

Hilde smiled.

"So, this isn't my normal method of asking girls on dates, but is there any chance you would let me buy you another tea sometime?"

Meilin blinked at her and then her face seemed to freeze. She shook her head.

"No. No, um, I'm not –" she ran a hand through her hair uneasily. "How did you _know_?"

Hilde scowled.

"What are you talking about?"

Meilin glared at her.

"How did you know I was a lesbian? Oh God – what classes do you take? What year are you? You can't say a word to –"

"Whoa, whoa." Hilde held up her hands in a nonthreatening gesture. "Take it easy. I don't go to Clarkson. And as for you being a lesbian… you are kind of staring at my tits a lot to be a straight girl."

Meilin flushed.

"Well, I'm not interested." She pulled on the Java Joe's shirt and stormed past Hilde, out of the bathroom, and slammed the door behind her.

Hilde cursed and glared at the door for a long moment before finally pulling off her wet bra and then putting on the new shirt, grateful that the tie-dye pattern and loose fit didn't draw attention to the fact that she wasn't wearing a bra.

When Hilde finally came out of the bathroom, Meilin was long gone, and Duo had resumed flirting with Trowa.

Hilde passed them on her way, and Duo abandoned Trowa to catch up to her.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked.

"Fine," she snapped.

He arched an eyebrow and she sighed.

"You're right about the whole jinxing thing," she said. "I think I just did that."

"Um… how?"

"That girl? Meilin? Last week I had a vision of me kissing her… so I just asked her out and she went totally crazy on me and stormed out."

Duo shrugged and smirked.

"Maybe that's supposed to happen?" he offered.

Hilde glared at him.

"Sorry," he said, and then frowned at her. "Do you have time to run home and grab dinner before your shift?"

She shook her head.

"Here," he went behind the counter and came back a moment later with a rice crispy treat.

"Seriously?" Hilde accepted it with a roll of her eyes. "How much do I owe you for the shirt?"

"Nothing. Your girlfriend paid for them."

Hilde glared at him.

"Hey – this is good. You should tell Mitch that."

"Tell him what? That I staged an impromptu wet t-shirt contest here?" Mitch was her usual co-worker for the evening shifts at the Ice Cream Shop and he had shown remarkable, and disturbing, persistence in trying to woo her. She had, on multiple occasions, told him that she was gay and that she was _not _interested. Which, perversely, only seemed to make him _more _interested in her. It had gotten to the point where she had thought about requesting a shift change - but that would mean working nightshift at the nursing home, and while that paid more, it was also _much _more depressing. Hilde had worked the night shift only three times, and all three times she had been a wreck when she came home to Duo. She just could NOT handle it when the old, sometimes slightly senile patients woke up, calling for dead loved ones or crying in confusion about where they were.

"That guy is a creep. Be careful." Duo warned her.

Hilde rolled her eyes.

"He's a creep but he's harmless. I swear - all he does is stare at me and drool a little. I'm fine," she insisted when he still looked uncertain.

She loved Duo, and loved the feeling of having someone who cared about her, but sometimes he got a little too overprotective.

"Alright, catch you later."

Hilde waved and then left.

On her way out, she noticed Trowa watching her, a calculating look in his green gaze.

* * *

><p>Despite the fact that Mitch, once again, couldn't stop staring at her ass or breasts all night, Hilde actually had a pleasant shift at the Ice Cream Shop.<p>

There was only one family with small children who came in - mercifully well behaved and not accident prone - and the rest of the customers were elderly locals and a few college students on dates.

Hilde loved the elderly couples who came in. She liked listening to their small, petty arguments and loved the way they would order for each other or even just look at each other. She thought it was remarkable that two people could spend so much of their lives together - and it gave her hope for having that, one day, herself.

The college couples she liked FAR less. They usually tipped horribly and were, in her experience, completely self-absorbed and very snotty.

After the shop closed and Hilde counted out the register she helped Mitch take the trash out to the dumpster.

Hilde had to climb up a rickety set of stairs to reach the lip of the dumpster, and as she hefted the last bag of trash over the edge, Mitch came up behind her and put one hand on her waist.

She immediately jerked away from his touch in surprise and almost fell off the stairs. He caught her, both hands now firmly holding her in place, and smirked at her.

"Careful," he cautioned her.

"I'm fine. You can let me go."

He just continued to hold her.

"Don't think I didn't notice you flirting with me tonight," he said. "I saw you smiling and laughing - usually you just scowl all night. You're finally ready to admit you like me, huh? That you want my cock?"

"Ew, Mitch, no!" She pushed at him, furious, not for the first time in her life, that her diminutive size, at 5'3 and barely one hundred pounds, meant that she was shorter and smaller than almost everyone but children.

"Come on. Kiss me. You _know _you want to." He leaned in and she shoved him backwards with enough force that they both fell from the steps and landed on the pavement.

She tried to push him off her, but he rolled them until he was straddling her and started to feel her breasts through her shirt.

"Stop!" She shouted at him and struggled against him.

"Calm _down_," he insisted. "You'd like it if only -"

Suddenly Mitch was flying through the air and landed against the dumpster, his head hitting the corner with a sickening crack.

Hilde scrambled to her feet.

She had no idea what had just happened. It was almost as if some invisible force had thrown Mitch off of her. Which was both crazy and impossible.

Cautiously, she approached Mitch's body. He wasn't moving, and there was a dark, wet trail of what could only be blood down the side of the dumpster leading down to his head.

"Shit, fucking, fucking, shit," she muttered and steeled herself for the worst as she reached out and felt for a pulse.

"Fuck me, no, no, no, no!" She could feel absolutely nothing from his neck or his wrist.

"Is he dead?"

Hilde spun around at the sound of a male voice.

Trowa Barton was standing behind her.

"What - where did you come from?" she demanded.

"I saw him attack you," Trowa said with a frown. "I -"

"Holy shit please don't tell me you can turn invisible."

Trowa arched an eyebrow at her.

"Okay. I can't turn invisible," he said sardonically.

"Oh fuck this is so bad." She backed away from his body. "Why did you do anything?" she demanded.

"Because he was going to rape you," Trowa said, still frowning and now looking at her as though she were crazy.

"You killed him!" she shrieked.

"I saved you," he pointed out. "I didn't know he'd hit the dumpster like that." He scowled. "I thought you could see the future?"

"Yeah. So?"

He gestured to Mitch's body.

"You didn't see him trying this on you? Or this happening?"

"No! It isn't like the Weather Channel – I can't just tune in whenever I want. I just get visions."

"You should work on that," Trowa told her. "Learn to control it."

She glared at him.

"I'll get right the fuck on that. As soon as I've figured out what the _hell _to do with this corpse!"

"Calm down," Trowa said and approached the body. He reached towards it and started to go through Mitch's pockets.

"What are you _doing_?" Hilde hissed at him when he pulled out his wallet and cellphone.

"Making it look like he was mugged," Trowa said without sparing a look at her.

"Oh my God. This is _so _not happening!" She struggled to keep from hyperventilating.

Trowa stood up and pocketed the wallet and phone.

"Are you finished closing up?" he asked and nodded towards the Ice Cream Shop.

"I just need to lock up," Hilde found herself saying. She was starting to feel very numb. This whole thing was surreal.

"I'll walk you home," Trowa said.

Hilde turned to him, already shaking her head in the negative.

"No. I don't –"

"You're in shock," he told her. "You're pale and shaky."

"Because I was just an accessory to murder!"

He rolled his eyes.

"It was self-defense."

"Then why don't we call the cops?"

"You want to explain to them how two people in community service – one for possession – had to kill someone in self defense? And one of them can turn invisible?"

"We wouldn't have to tell them that part," Hilde grumbled, but she could see his point. It wasn't as if the cops had any reason to trust _either _of them.

She frowned.

"I thought you were quiet?"

He shrugged.

"I thought you were a bitch."

"I am _not_!"

"No," he agreed. "But Duo told me to steer clear of you – he said you didn't think much of me."

"So you decided to stalk me invisibly?"

"I just wanted to try to figure you out." He looked at the body. "We should go."

Hilde wanted to argue with him, but even more, she wanted to get away from Mitch's body.

She turned on her heel and went back into the Ice Cream Shop. She locked up and grabbed her bag before joining Trowa back outside.

Hilde started walking towards the apartment she and Duo shared, and Trowa fell in step beside her.

"I _don't_ think much of you," she said after a moment, thinking that talking would be better than silence. Silence made her think about the sound of Mitch's skull hitting the dumpster.

"Okay," Trowa said. He had his hands shoved in his pockets. Hilde couldn't tell if he didn't care about having just killed someone or was simply as freaked out as she was and trying to hide it.

"He said you tried to kill yourself."

Trowa flinched, but nodded.

"His brother –"

"He told me."

Hilde frowned at that. Duo didn't tell _anyone _about Solo.

"He's my best friend," Hilde said. "If you hurt him in any way – and that includes offing yourself – I will fucking kill you."

His lips twitched but he refrained from saying anything. Instead, he nodded.

Which left Hilde without any topics of conversation. Because what did you talk about to the suicidal, creepy quiet guy dating your best friend who had just killed a guy trying to rape you?

"No one knows – about me," Trowa said into the silence. "What I can do."

"Why?"

"No reason for anyone to."

Which sounded _exactly_ like what a creepy quiet guy would say, Hilde thought.

"So Duo doesn't know?"

"No. I'd rather tell him… later."

"Have you been following him?"

"No." Trowa shook his head emphatically. "I don't want to."

Hilde thought that didn't make much sense, and her thoughts must have shown on her face.

"I don't want to be invisible to him. I want to be _with_ him. Following him… no. It would be too much."

Hilde had no idea how that made any kind of sense, but they had arrived at the apartment, and she had no desire to continue any conversation with him.

"Listen – speaking about things people don't know. Don't say anything about this, okay?"

He looked surprised.

"Duo?"

She shook her head.

"No. He's overprotective enough as it is. He doesn't need to know about this."

Trowa frowned.

"If you tell him – then I'll tell him about you," Hilde said, resorting to threatening him.

Trowa's green eyes turned hard.

He turned and walked away without saying anything, leaving Hilde feeling vaguely uneasy.

With a sigh, she went inside.

Duo was on the couch, watching baseball, but he jumped up when she entered.

"Hey!" he called. "I've got a pizza in the oven."

"Thanks, I'm just going to change." She eased past him and went into her bedroom.

She allowed herself a few minutes to freak out as soon as she closed her door.

She had almost been raped – she would have been, she was sure, if Trowa hadn't been stalking her – and then she had been part of a murder. Hours ago her day had turned to shit when the girl of her dreams walked away from her – but this was a whole new circle of hell.

Hilde had a sudden urge to be out of her clothes- the clothes that Mitch had touched – and pulled them off in a hurry and threw them into the trashcan in the corner of her room.

She fought back tears and forced herself to breathe evenly for a few minutes.

Once she was calm again, Hilde pulled on a pair of boxers she had liberated from Duo's laundry and her favorite t-shirt, an ancient, ripped Yoda shirt that she had found at a Goodwill years ago.

The clothes didn't comfort her nearly as much as she wanted them to, but she at least felt clean.

When she rejoined Duo he was cutting the pizza into slices.

"Hey – I've got Watchmen all cued up. Wanna grab us some beer?" he asked.

Hilde did as instructed and followed him out to the couch.

Duo deposited the pizza tray on the coffee table.

"You okay?" he asked suddenly.

She turned to find him studying her.

"Yeah," she said and forced a smile. "Just tired. God what a crazy day."

He nodded.

"Don't worry about it – seriously, maybe having that chick run out on you is part of some elaborate courtship plan."

Hilde choked on a laugh. She _wished _that Meilin was the cause for her concern.

"Maybe," she agreed. "Alright. Are you going to start this up or what? I could really do with getting to stare at Malin Ackerman for a while!"

Duo shuddered.

"Girls are so weird," he muttered but did as she commanded.

Hilde settled back against the couch, snacking on the pizza, and forcing her mind away from reality.

"Maybe we should get costumes?" she suggested with a dreamy sigh when Malin showed up in her skin tight black and yellow suit.

"We aren't superheroes," Duo reminded her. "But the Comedian's mask is totally badass."

Hilde smirked.

"Capes or no capes?"

"No capes! Didn't you pay attention at the beginning?" He grinned. "Bet Junior Deputy could pull it off though – okay. Maybe not." He snickered. "Heero, though. He could do a cape."

There was a look in his eyes when he said the other man's name that made Hilde curious.

"Heero? The hot angry guy?"

"Yep," Duo agreed. "I swear, I _will _get him to smile at me."

"He is really cute. You'd look good together."

Duo turned to glare at her.

"I look good with Trowa," he said.

She shrugged.

"You'd look good with anyone. I'm just wondering who will make you happy. Maybe Heero –" she caught herself as a golden mist filled her vision and suddenly she wasn't seeing Duo anymore.

Or at least, not _just _Duo.

Hilde was no longer on the couch, but seemed to be somewhere else in the room, and Duo, Heero, and Trowa were on the couch.

Heero sat in the middle, with Duo on one side, and Trowa on the other. The tall man had his legs stretched across the other two, and all three seemed to be watching something on television.

As Hilde stood there, completely frozen in shock, Duo started to tickle Trowa's feet, and the other man jerked away with an involuntary laugh.

Duo followed him, practically crawling over Heero to continue tickling him.

"Help me!" Trowa said, his voice tinged with laughter, and Heero joined in the fray, tickling Duo's sides until the other man was trying to fight his way free.

"So not fair," Duo groused when Heero had him pinned and Trowa was holding up his fingers threateningly. "You can't team up on me like this."

Trowa and Heero exchanged smirks before Trowa leaned down and kissed Duo.

Duo responded instantly and enthusiastically. His arms were still trapped by Heero, so he wrapped his legs around Trowa and pulled him close. Heero, meanwhile, started to kiss Duo's neck.

It distracted him and he broke free from Trowa to kiss Heero as well.

Hilde was finally able to look away when they started getting naked.

Her vision cleared, and suddenly it was just her and Duo, on their couch, alone.

"You okay?" Duo asked, looking a little concerned.

"Yeah, I'm fine." She shook her head. "Just really, really tired. Mind if we watch the end some other time?"

"Sure. I mean, we've already watched this eight or nine times… I think I can guess what happens next."

She smiled at him.

"Thanks."

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked when she got up from the couch.

"I am," she assured him.

He looked doubtful, but let her go.

As Hilde buried herself under the covers on her bed she silently cursed whatever powers that be for giving her the ability to see into the future. Which only seemed to apply for seeing Duo's death or soft core porn.

"Thanks for nothing," she muttered, trying her hardest not to think about Mitch's body.

* * *

><p>Community Service that Saturday found them under Dorothy's care. The policed still thought Une was missing, but as Hilde and Duo walked by a few of them, they heard them gossiping about the possibility of Une being a victim of the serial killer. Or of <em>being <em>the serial killer.

"Weird that shit only seems to happen on Saturdays," Duo remarked to Hilde when the cops radios started squawking and they all cleared out of the station.

"Maybe the crazy people are too busy working during the week?" Hilde mused.

They saw Dorothy sitting at the reception desk, glaring at them.

"Get dressed," she snapped. "I'm taking you delinquents to the highway to clean up road kill today."

The thought made Hilde feel slightly queasy.

She and Duo parted ways at the locker rooms, and Hilde found Relena inside, still getting changed.

"Hey," she said to the blonde girl.

She was freaked out by Relena's power, but last Saturday had proven her to be okay. Hot, self-centered, and whiny – but okay.

Relena smiled at her.

"Ready for another exciting day of craziness?" Relena joked.

"No," Hilde answered honestly. She pulled on her orange jumpsuit.

"Only three more to go," Relena said brightly. She reached out and squeezed Hilde's shoulder.

Hilde immediately shied away.

Relena frowned and then sighed.

"I'm sorry."

"No, I – sorry. I'm just a little freaked out by what you can do."

Relena gave her a watery smile.

"What I can do? Oh, if you only knew…" she shook her head. "I was on a date last night with this really nice guy. Roger – he's majoring in nuclear physics," she added, as if Hilde cared, "and we had a great dinner and he walked me to my dorm room and he held my hand. And I wanted him to kiss me so badly – and he did. And I – I really think I made him do it, just by wanting him to."

Hilde frowned.

"I thought you had to say it?"

Relena shook her head.

"I've been practicing. I can just think it now. And what if – what if I get so _good _at this that I don't have to touch people either? What if… what if everyone around me just starts doing exactly what I want them to? Then nothing will matter and _nothing _will be real anymore!"

Relena looked on the verge of tears and Hilde hugged her.

Relena stiffened in her arms.

"Did I make you do that?" she asked, her voice small.

"No," Hilde assured her – hoping it was the truth. "I just wanted an excuse to feel you up," she added quickly.

Relena laughed and hugged her back before releasing her.

"You really are pretty," Relena said as she wiped her eyes.

"Thanks?" Hilde didn't know if Relena was implying that lesbians were ugly.

"I just – I mean, I'm not interested, but if I _was_ a lesbian, I'd find you really hot."

Hilde laughed and Relena smiled at her.

"C'mon, we should join the boys before Duo pisses someone off," Hilde said.

Relena rolled her eyes.

"Too late, I'm sure."

And of course, it was.

By the time they entered the briefing room, Duo was in a loud argument with both Wufei and Trant.

Hilde tried to listen to them, and it seemed that it wasn't even Duo they were mad at – they were blaming Quatre for what had happened last weekend, and Duo was defending him.

"Are you all insane?" Relena demanded, as she too figured out what they were fighting over. "We can't talk about this here!"

Wufei turned his glare on her.

"The cops think that Une was killed by the serial killer," Quatre jumped in before Wufei could speak. "We have to tell them the truth! It could confuse the entire investigation! More people could die!"

"Then _you _tell them that _you _killed the bitch," Trant growled. "I'm not going down for that shit."

"We can't tell the truth now," Wufei added, "it will only make us look guilty."

"We _are_ guilty!" Quatre pointed out.

"Okay, Junior Deputy, chill out – we can't tell anyone," Duo said calmly before turning to glare at Wufei and Trant, "but we also have to stick together on this! You two assholes can't just wash your hands of this. We're all in this together."

Trant looked ready to argue, but Heero spoke up.

"He's right. Something happened to us when we were struck by lightning – to some of us," he added with a look over at Trowa, since the two of them were supposedly without powers, "and we are in this together. She would have killed all of us, or at least ruined our lives."

"We're a team," Quatre added. "And if we _act_ like it, we can get through this and do some good!"

Duo groaned.

"We are _not _superheroes!" He repeated his statement from last night. "We are… we're fucking deviants who can do shit. And I, for one, want to keep that under wraps until this community service hell is over with. I'm not interested in being a team – but I'm not going to let some of you throw anyone to the wolves."

He glared at Trant and Wufei.

Wufei looked ready to say something, but Dorothy came slamming into the room.

"Get on the bus now," she barked. "You've got road kill to clean up."

Obediently they filed from the room and boarded the bus.

Dorothy drove them to a stretch of highway that was usually very busy and also had a reputation of being a graveyard for deer.

"Oh, so gross," Relena muttered as they disembarked from the bus and surveyed the carnage.

It looked as though half the deer population had tried to run across the road and most had been smashed into bloody carcasses.

"This is _not _okay," Hilde said and gave Relena a sympathetic look.

"Get to work!" Dorothy snapped at them. She tossed work gloves and trashbags to each of them and then set up a lawn chair in the shade of the parked bus and pulled out a book.

Hilde watched as everyone started to spread out. Duo, instead of walking towards her or Trowa, followed Heero over to the closest, gruesome corpse.

She decided to let him enjoy _that _bonding time and looked for something smaller and less disgusting to pick up. Like the plastic bottles and other trash strewn on the grass.

"Are you okay?"

She looked up to see that Trowa had joined her, and he actually looked concerned.

"I'm fine," she snapped at him.

His eyes narrowed and he looked away.

"I'm sorry," she said with a sigh. "I'm not okay."

"I'm sorry too," he told her softly.

She looked up at him.

Okay, so he _had _stalked her and he _had _killed someone… but he was trying to protect her. Maybe he wasn't completely creepy.

They both looked up at the sound of Duo shouting.

He and Heero had managed to pry the head of a deer off the road and they looked equally disgusted as they tried to put it into Duo's trashbag.

Hilde looked back and noticed that Trowa looked a little… jealous.

"You don't like Heero?" she asked him.

Trowa frowned and shrugged.

"He's okay."

"He's hot," Hilde observed, earning a scowl from Trowa that quickly turned into a blank expression that nevertheless conveyed a sense of defeat.

Hilde immediately regretted teasing him.

"Duo really likes you," she said quickly.

Trowa remained silent.

Hilde sighed and contemplated telling him about her vision from last night. Duo didn't want to know the future he didn't want to risk jinxing it – and after yesterday, Hilde was inclined to agree with him. But what if knowing the truth wouldn't jinx it for Trowa? Or what if it did?

If it did, then Hilde was pretty sure Duo would move on and be better off – he did not need a suicidal guy in his life. And if it didn't' jinx it, well, then maybe Trowa _should _be in his life after all.

"I had this vision last night… about you and Duo…"

Trowa looked over at her.

"It was good," she assured him.

"What was it?" he asked after a moment, prompted, it seemed, by Duo shouting "fucking gross!" and then laughing.

So Hilde told him.

* * *

><p>When they returned to the police station late that afternoon, whatever crisis had called the other police officers away was either still underway or something else had happened. The place was completely deserted, with the exception of two very tall, very well dressed, and very pissed looking people.<p>

One was a woman with short, dark hair wearing a stylish and borderline sexy black skirt suit. The other was a man with long blonde hair, blue eyes, and a sneer that made it clear he didn't understand why the world wasn't working harder to do his bidding.

"Who are they?" Hilde asked Quatre.

"No idea," he said.

"Can I help you?" Dorothy demanded when she walked in, her irritation clear.

The man arched one elegant eyebrow at her.

"Do you _work_ here?"

"Obviously." She gestured to her badge and uniform.

His sneer became even more pronounced, but the woman merely chuckled.

"We're Detectives Noin and Merquise. I believe Captain Winner is expecting us?"

Dorothy paled.

"Yes. I'm sorry. Yes. He's… still on site."

Noin and Merquise and exchanged dark looks.

"Take us there," Noin said, clearly a command.

Dorothy looked back at them.

"Get changed and go home," she barked at them.

"Such amazing people skills," Duo muttered, earning a glare from Dorothy and a chuckle from Merquise.

As Hilde and Duo walked out of the police station in their street clothes a few minutes later they watched Dorothy and the two detectives clamored into a squad car.

"That can't be good," Duo muttered as they sped away.

"No," Hilde agreed. "But as you said – we aren't superheroes. So it's not our problem."

He smirked and threw an arm around her shoulders.

"I _did _say that, didn't I?"

Hilde looked back to see Trowa watching them, a frown creasing his brow.

After Hilde had told him about her vision Trowa had drifted off and spent the rest of the day on his own, idly collecting trash and generally ignoring the rest of the world. He had even ignored Duo's invitation to join them for lunch, which had definitely hurt Duo more than Hilde wanted it to.

As they walked home Hilde couldn't shake the feeling that maybe she had made the wrong decision.


	7. Chapter 7

Warnings: Angst, violence, language, drug use, abuse, supernatural things, sex, yaoi, yuri, het. If you desperately need to know who is paired with who send me a message and I can tell you, but I'd rather you get to experience the evolution of the characters first.

A/N: Based on Misfits, but draws from X-Men, Smallville, and Heroes as well. These kids aren't the complete burnouts that the Misfits are, but they are NOT perfect angels. Be warned.

A/N #2: Thanks to the always amazing Cuzo, more than a beta and no less than a friend.

A/N#3: A special thanks to Snowdragonct, who has been so encouraging and supportive since I first started writing here. Thank you for your advice, conversation, and general brilliance. Also, you are a badass AND a classy lady.

A/N#4: I want to give credit to Cuzo for suggesting Heero's powers be Storm-like. It saved me from the terrible mistake of giving him super lame powers, and I'm glad that so many of you have enjoyed her recommendation as well. Thank you for saving Heero!

**Deviant**

Chapter Seven

Monday night found Trowa alone in his dorm room, staring at his computer screen, unable to focus on writing his Russian history midterm.

Instead, his mind was a mess. Ever since Friday night he had slept poorly, waking up constantly in the middle of his dreams as he remembered the sound of that man's skull impacting on the dumpster. Even during the day he was haunted by what he had done. His only respite from thinking about the murder he had committed was when he thought about what Hilde had told him of her vision.

His mental image of Duo, Heero, and himself sitting on a couch, watching a movie, tickling each other, _kissing_ each other – it was nearly incomprehensible.

Trowa couldn't decide whether or not he liked the idea of a threesome. It was one thing to have opened up to Duo, but the idea of letting someone else get close to him – someone as cold and distant as Heero – wasn't very inspiring.

He stared at his empty bed. Thus far he and Duo hadn't progressed to anything that necessitated removing clothing, but Trowa had had hopes of getting there soon. The idea of Heero joining them in his narrow twin bed seemed improbable at best.

Of course, the fact that Trowa was a murderer would probably deter Duo from _ever_ being in that bed with him again.

Disgusted with himself, Trowa decided that he wasn't going to accomplish anything in his dorm room. He packed up his Macbook, several books, a notebook, and a few pens.

It was nearly midnight and the campus was deserted as Trowa made his way from his dorm room to the library.

The 24-hour study room was located on the first floor, just beyond the entrance to the library, and it was mercifully empty. A few armchairs were arrayed around the perimeter of the room, and a large conference table and chairs dominated the center.

Trowa set up his computer and arrayed his books on the table in front of him and found that he still couldn't think about his midterm.

The trouble with trying to imagine himself with both Duo and Heero was that Trowa didn't even _like_ Heero. He didn't _dislike_ him, necessarily, but he had never given the other man much attention. Then again, he had never really given _anyone_ much attention aside from Duo.

Heero was certainly physically attractive – and Trowa had seen glimpses of his body enough times in the police station locker room to appreciate the fact that his lean body was impressively toned.

But as much as Trowa could admire that about the other man – and as much as he _did_ admire Duo's body – he wasn't driven to wild fantasies of the three of them naked together just at the sight of Heero's upper body.

He liked Duo, he wanted Duo – he didn't want anyone else. Maybe it was selfish of him, but he didn't want Duo to want anyone else either. But that was it, really – of course Duo, so vibrant and alive and reckless, _would_ want someone else. Likely, Duo needed someone else to balance out the emptiness in his life that Trowa alone couldn't fill.

Or that he would even want Trowa to attempt to fill, once he found out that he was a murderer.

It was ridiculous to waste any of his time thinking about the possibility of a relationship with Heero and Duo when the truth was that Trowa deserved to be alone and miserable.

The door to the study room opened and a man walked in. He wore a Clarkson sweater, the hood pulled up to cover his head and cast his face in shadow, and tight black that hugged his slim legs and well defined ass.

The man collapsed into one of the arm chairs by the wall, and it was another minute before he pulled back his hood and finally realized that someone else was in the room.

Trowa was surprised to see that the man was actually Heero, but even more surprised by the sight of dark circles under his eyes and his swollen, bloody lower lip.

"You look like hell," Trowa said before he could help himself.

Heero smirked and then immediately winced.

"Thanks."

"Sorry."

Heero held his gaze for a moment, and Trowa could tell he was debating whether or not to leave. Heero's eyes strayed to the books in front of Trowa.

"My midterm for Russian History," Trowa felt the urge to explain. "It's due in the morning."

Heero nodded.

"There's not usually anyone in here this late on Monday nights," Heero said lightly.

Trowa realized that Heero wasn't carrying a backpack, or anything that would suggest he planned to study.

"My roommate has company," Heero growled, clearly frustrated.

"And you two fought about it?" Trowa guessed, a little unbelieving.

Heero reached up to gently touch his lips.

"No. This happened before. Hazard of the job," he added with a sneer.

"Don't you have work study in the Smith computer lab?" Trowa asked.

Heero frowned.

"Duo didn't say anything to you."

It wasn't a question, but Trowa still felt the need to shake his head in the negative. He didn't recall ever having a conversation with Duo about Heero – they tended to avoid talking about community service.

"But you two are dating."

Trowa arched an eyebrow at Heero.

"How do you know that?" They barely flirted at community service. He suddenly remembered that Heero, like himself, hadn't spoken up the day they listed their 'powers.' Did Heero have an ability like Quatre's or Hilde's?

"I've seen him going into your dorm a few times."

"Are you on my hall?" Trowa asked. He had made zero effort to get to know anyone who lived near him, so it was possible.

"No, I'm in Carter."

Which was across campus from Thompson, Trowa's dorm.

Heero sighed.

"My job… my other job… I'm usually heading out for work when Duo goes to your dorm. I see him on my way to the parking garage – and I saw you sign him in a few times."

"Are you a bouncer at some underground nightclub?" Trowa asked, trying to joke.

"No." Heero's face was impossible to read, but he held Trowa's eyes. "I'm a prostitute."

A lot of things suddenly made sense to Trowa. He had never given much thought to the crime Duo claimed had sentenced him to community service – Duo had, the day that he read their charges, written it off as a bad joke and Trowa had believed him. Especially after he had discovered that Duo was incredibly ticklish, to the point that it was nearly impossible to touch his stomach without him flinching away and laughing. Trowa thought that that would be a serious impediment to a career in selling your body, so he had never really listened to Trant or Wufei's insults directed at Duo. It was clear that Trant was just lashing out in anger and jealousy, and Wufei… Trowa had no idea why the other Clarkson student was so antagonistic towards Duo.

"Duo lied for you," Trowa said as he thought it.

Heero nodded.

"Why? He doesn't even know you." Trowa didn't necessarily consider it a fault of his, but it was a fact that Duo was not kind to most strangers or people he didn't care for outside of fulfilling his customer service duties at the coffee shop, hardware store, and grocery store.

To Trowa's knowledge, Duo had never even met Heero before community service, so why would he lie to protect a stranger – especially when it meant giving Trant more ammunition to use against him?

"I think it was an apology," Heero said and shrugged. "But who knows? Maybe he thought it would piss people off so he went for it."

That did sound a little bit like something Duo would do.

"Why would he be apologizing to you?"

Heero tensed.

"We ran into each other one night – he wasn't a client – and… he was an asshole," Heero smirked slightly.

"What happened to you? Tonight?"

"It's not like you can be that picky, in my line of work," Heero started, "but sometimes I _do_ say no… and sometimes people think 'no' means that I just need more convincing."

"Why do you do it?" Trowa had to ask. He knew it was rude – knew it was exactly like people asking him why he had tried to kill himself – but he wanted to know.

"To pay for school. I've been on my own since I was fourteen."

It wasn't what Trowa had been expecting, and when Heero drew in a breath to continue he stopped him.

"You don't have to. I shouldn't have asked."

Heero nodded in agreement.

"No one else knows – just you, Duo, and the cops. I just need enough to pay for school, and grad school. It's not – _I'm _not –" he stopped and shook his head. "I wasn't abused as a child. I don't seek the role of the victim. I'm not – I'm not _submissive_." Heero continued. His tone of voice suggested he was reading from a psychology book. Trowa wouldn't be surprised if Heero _was_ quoting one – his first impression of Heero had been that the man was one of the most self-analytical people he had ever met.

"It's just sex. Only a physical act. There's no emotion connected to it. Just… a function. I'm barely even there, I barely even feel _anything_." Heero looked almost vulnerable, sitting there, waiting for Trowa to say something.

But was the hell was Trowa supposed to say to _that_? What did Heero even want him to say? Did he want acceptance or judgment? It wasn't as if Trowa was in a place to offer either. He was suicidal – and he had killed someone. He was a _murderer_.

"Hilde works at The Ice Cream Shop," Trowa started, not surprised when Heero looked confused. "She and Duo are roommates – best friends – and she hates me." Now more than ever, he mentally added. "Anyway, last Friday night she was closing the shop and the guy she worked with tried to rape her. I stopped him – I tackled him off of her and against the dumpster. I killed him." It had been on the local news Saturday night, reported as a mugging gone wrong, and alluded to as just the latest in a string of murders that had shattered the peaceful shelter of Clarkson.

"You saved her," Heero said, picking up on Trowa's turmoil.

"I _killed _someone," Trowa argued.

Heero frowned.

"Did you say something? Tell him to stop or anything to scare him off first?"

"No," Trowa admitted. He hadn't even _thought_ about doing that. He had just seen the man ripping at Hilde's clothes, seen her tear streaked face, and reacted. "I didn't think." He drew in a deep breath and decided to tell Heero everything. "I was invisible. I can turn invisible."

Heero's eyebrows rose.

"That's ironic."

Trowa scowled. It was perfectly true – he had reflected on that himself – but it was still irritating to hear from someone else.

"It's so impossible _not_ to notice you," Heero continued.

"What?" Trowa asked in complete confusion.

Heero rolled his eyes.

"Look at you – you're perfect. Last semester in Calculus almost every girl tried to flirt with you because of how you look. Duo can't even keep his eyes off you most of the time. Neither can I." Heero looked horrified as he said the last. It was clear that he hadn't meant to.

Trowa still found it difficult to believe that Duo found him interesting and attractive – even after months of the other man trying to ask him out – and the knowledge that Heero Yuy couldn't keep his eyes off him was hard to wrap his mind around.

"I'm not perfect," he pointed out immediately.

"No," Heero agreed, "I guess you aren't. That doesn't change anything."

"I _killed_ someone."

"You saved someone else," Heero pointed out. "Do you really think I'm going to judge you? I sell my body to pay for tuition at a private college."

"I'm not judging you," Trowa said.

"Thanks. I judge myself enough as it is."

Trowa couldn't help but laugh.

"God, me too," he agreed.

Heero's lips twitched into a smirk.

"I never tried talking to you before…you didn't seem interested," Heero said after a moment.

"Judging myself pretty much occupies most of my time," Trowa said.

"It shouldn't."

Trowa was certain that Heero was flirting with him. He wasn't quite sure how to respond – or even how he wanted to respond. It was clear that Heero was more than the attractive robot that Trowa had always thought him to be.

He looked at the time. It was just after two in the morning. There was no way he was going to sleep today, not with this midterm due in less than eight hours.

"I'm heading back to my room – I left a few books there," Trowa said.

Heero blinked slowly, as though he was trying to figure out what that had to do with him.

"I've got to finish this – so I'm going to be typing all morning… but if you want to use my bed, I'm sure it's more comfortable than sleeping in one of these chairs."

Heero frowned.

"I promise not to kill you in your sleep," Trowa added.

Heero smirked slightly and stood up, wincing as he did.

"I appreciate it."

They walked back to Trowa's dorm in silence, but it was strangely companionable. They flashed their student I.D.s at the R.A. working the front desk and then Trowa led Heero down the hall to his room.

"It's clean," Heero remarked when Trowa ushered him in.

"Yeah," Trowa agreed.

"My roommate throws his crap everywhere… our room is never clean," Heero muttered.

Trowa nodded in sympthay.

"That's one of the reasons I wanted a single."

"Hn."

Trowa abruptly realized that while Heero's occupation paid his college, it was doubtful that he could afford to pay the extra boarding for a single room.

"Anyway, there's the bed," Trowa said and gestured to it.

"Thanks again," Heero said as he toed off his shoes.

"Don't worry about it."

Trowa sat down at his desk and set up his books and computer once again.

Within minutes he was _finally_ completely absorbed in writing his paper.

It was after five when he paused to stretch and looked over his shoulder to see Heero curled up in a fetal position, a scowl across his forehead and his eyes scrunched closed so tightly it looked painful. His lower lip had become more swollen, and everything about Heero made him seem incredibly broken.

Trowa felt a wave of self-loathing. He had tried to kill himself because his life was overwhelming empty – Heero was fighting against the shitty hand life had dealt him and, clearly, was barely hanging on. But he _was_ fighting. Duo was doing that same. Trowa was merely… existing; trying to pass the time until he finally died.

With a sigh, Trowa stood and pulled the comforter over Heero's body.

Compared to these two, Trowa had everything. He had a family – who did care for him, even if they were terrible at showing it – he had money, he had an easy future ahead of him. Not so for Duo or Heero.

He sat back down at his desk, determined to finish this paper before he allowed his thoughts to derail him again.

There would be plenty of time for self-recrimination later. There always was.

* * *

><p>By seven, Trowa was satisfied with his midterm and submitted it digitally before printing off and extra copy, just in case.<p>

Despite the fact that Heero's presence in his bed wrecked Trowa's morning routine and meant that he would skip shaving, he found that he was able to easily adapt and silently gathered supplies to take a shower without waking the other man.

After his shower he found Heero still asleep. Trowa pulled clean boxers from his dress and pulled them on before shedding his bathrobe.

He put on a clean pair of jeans and picked out a green turtleneck from his closet.

"Morning."

Trowa spun at the sound of Heero's gravelly voice.

"Morning," he echoed stupidly.

Heero was sitting up in the bed, blinking sleepily. His gaze cleared, however, when he noticed the scar on Trowa's neck. His blue eyes narrowed, and Trowa took that as his cue and hurriedly pulled the turtleneck over his head and down over his naked chest, hiding the scar.

"It's almost seven-thirty," Trowa said.

"Thanks for letting me use your bed," Heero said, thankfully following Trowa's lead and not saying anything about the scar. "Could I borrow some mouthwash?" Heero asked, nodding at the bottle perched on the small sink in one corner of Trowa's room.

"Sure."

While Heero struggled to make himself presentable, Trowa finished packing his backpack for the day.

"Are you headed to the caf?" Heero asked when he stepped aside to allow Trowa to wash out his travel mug.

"No, Joe's."

Heero nodded.

"Can I buy you coffee then? As a thanks?"

"I drink tea," Trowa said, feeling stupid.

One corner of Heero's mouth twitched upwards. The other… was still swollen but he had washed the blood off.

"Then can I buy you a cup of tea?"

Trowa shrugged.

Heero rolled his eyes.

"So last night I tell you I'm a prostitute, you confess to killing someone, and we were fine. But this _morning_ I see your scar and things get weird between us."

"Your forgot the part where you slept in my bed," Trowa pointed out.

"I don't think that's why you can't meet my eyes," Heero argued.

Trowa frowned and reached up to rub his scar through his shirt.

"Yeah," he agreed with a sigh.

"The scar doesn't change the fact that you're incredibly good looking," Heero said.

Trowa swallowed any comment he might have made and instead opened the door to his room.

Heero chuckled but took the hint and preceded him from the room.

Their walk across campus towards Main Street was once again silent, and once again companionable – only now Trowa felt a distinct underlying tension. He noticed Heero glancing at him every few steps, and found that he was doing the same. The weather, which had started out overcast, cleared as they walked, and seeing the early morning sun dance across Heero's face was definitely distracting.

By the time they arrived at Joe's, Heero was smirking confidently, and Trowa couldn't decide if the look was irritating or attractive.

"Morning and welcome to Java Joe's!" Duo called out when they entered the coffee shop.

Duo's usual grin stiffened a little when he noticed Heero with Trowa.

"Hey, Trowa and… friend," he said. Duo arched an eyebrow at Trowa, clearly wondering at this deviation in his usual routine.

Duo took Trowa's travel mug from his hand and started to make his tea.

"What can I get for you?" Duo asked Heero.

"A medium house coffee," Heero said as he pulled out his wallet.

"Coming right up. That'll be two dollars."

"For both?" Heero asked.

Duo frowned.

"You want two coffees?"

"No, for the coffee and his tea." Heero gestured to Trowa.

Duo, in the process of handing Trowa's mug back to him, froze. But then he grinned broadly and set the mug down on the counter, his hand never coming into contact with Trowa's.

"No, Trowa's tea is on the house."

Heero shrugged and paid for his coffee and dropped a quarter in the tip jar.

Duo handed him his coffee, and as Heero moved to the side table to add cream and sugar, Duo turned an incredulous look on Trowa.

"Since when did you and captain tight pants start hanging out?" he asked.

Trowa shrugged.

"He had a rough night. His job," he added.

Duo's eyes widened and he looked over at Heero again.

"He told you?"

Trowa nodded.

"We talked."

"Which is more than we've done since Friday afternoon," Duo groused.

Trowa frowned at the irritation in Duo's voice, knowing that it was true, and that he was entirely to blame. He had been avoiding Duo ever since the incidents with Hilde, partly because he had been trying to wrap his head around the idea of a future threesome, but mostly because he had been putting off having to tell Duo that he was a murderer. Despite what Hilde wanted, there was no way he could keep it a secret from Duo – not when it could change everything between them.

Duo sighed.

"Anyway, are we still on for tomorrow night? Pizza and Kubrick at my place?" Duo grinned crookedly.

"I'm looking forward to it," Trowa assured him, despite the sense of dread in his belly. It was one of Duo's few nights off, and they had been planning this since last week. Trowa was almost positive that Duo's plans for the night also involved some definite and productive naked time. Which would, no doubt, not be happening once Trowa told him.

Heero walked back over from the side table.

"You're out of honey," he said.

Duo blinked at him and then looked down at the cup in his hand.

"You put honey in your coffee?" he asked incredulously.

Heero nodded, a challenging look in his eyes.

Duo laughed.

"No fucking way!" He took the cup from Heero. "I thought I was the only one!"

Heero seemed to relax marginally.

Duo added honey to his coffee and stirred it well before handing it back.

"Give that a try," he said.

Heero took a sip and then nodded.

"Perfect."

Duo smirked.

"Of course it is," he said. "Anyway, you two run along and go get educated – wouldn't want you to become delinquents or anything."

Trowa rolled his eyes but actually felt marginally less depressed about the future. Duo's levity was contagious, and he found himself actually smiling when he stepped outside to find that it was completely sunny out.

"Duo's a good guy," Heero mused as they walked.

"Yeah," Trowa agreed.

"And he makes you happy."

Trowa nodded.

Heero sighed a little wistfully, and the sky lost some of its brightness as clouds started to move in.

Trowa decided that he wanted the future that Hilde had seen. Duo _did_ make him happy, but if being with Heero and Trowa would make Duo happy – then that's what he would do. Besides, it was clear that Heero wasn't happy and that he wanted to be. The three of them needed each other.

"Do you have a lunch break today? Between classes?" Trowa asked Heero.

"It's early – I've got a 9:40 class and then a break from 11:15 to 12:15."

"Me too," Trowa said. "I'll see you at the caf?"

Heero looked momentarily confused by the offer, but then he nodded.

"Yeah. I'll see you."

As Heero turned to go to his dorm, Trowa noticed that the clouds had once again receded. It looked as though the weather had finally decided to be nice for once.

* * *

><p>History majors could more or less take their pick from the courses offered, so long as they ended with forty-eight semester hours and had taken two courses from each of the disciplines – American history, European history, and Asian history. Trowa's interests lay in Middle Eastern history, and since Clarkson only offered three courses in that field, he found that he had planned out his next few semesters to include a fair amount of Asian and European history in his effort to avoid American history courses, and more specifically, the American history professor, Ted Uldricks, who appeared to be certifiably insane.<p>

Treize Khushrenada taught most of the European history classes, while Sally Po handled the Asian history courses. Trowa liked both of them, and found them to be challenging and engaging instructors.

Khushrenada, in particular, was an excellent professor. The fact that he tended to identify with some of the more radical figures in Russian history – he had spent three classes arguing against Ivan the Terrible's moniker and claiming that he was, in actuality, a hero – only made him more interesting.

The class was one of his favorites. It was also clearly one of Wufei Chang's favorite classes.

The Chinese man was early to every class and also stayed late to talk to Khushrenada – hanging on his every word and looking at him with such adoration that Trowa found it almost laughable.

He knew that Wufei lived with Meilin Long, a Women's Studies major that Trowa had met last year when he turned out to be the only male enrolled in Women and Imperialism – the only history class besides U.S. Economic History that hadn't had a wait list last semester. He wasn't sure why they lived together, or why they pretended to be dating – it was clear that Meilin was a lesbian and that Wufei was a prude and homosexual.

Today's class was no different than any other, and sure enough, after Khushrenada released them, Wufei remained to talk to him about some obscure Russian prince who had tried to assassinate Ivan the Terrible.

Trowa left them to it and made his way to the caf. Heero was waiting for him outside, sitting on one of the benches in fresh clothes.

"Hey," Trowa greeted him.

Heero stood and smirked slightly.

"Hey," Heero echoed, reminding Trowa of that morning.

The caf was slow this early, and they quickly made their way through the lunch line and found seats in the dining hall.

"You said something about grad school," Trowa said to Heero as they sat down.

Heero nodded.

"I want to teach."

"Math?" Trowa tried to remember what Heero's major was.

"I want to go to grad school for applied mathematics and teach at a college."

"You know you'd have to talk, to do that," Trowa pointed out. _He_ might be reticent, but Heero was even more so.

"Maybe," Heero said with a shrug and a smirk. "What are you majoring in?"

"History."

Heero arched an eyebrow, clearly waiting for him to elaborate and share his plans for the future.

"My parents want me to go to law school and join the family business – Barton and associates."

"What do you want to do?"

Trowa shrugged.

"I've never really thought much about the future." Mostly because he simply didn't see himself in it.

"It's all I think about," Heero muttered.

Which once again reminded Trowa of just how pathetic _he_ was.

"Would you want to know – the future?"

Heero frowned and looked around the caf, but no one was near their table.

"Like Hilde can see the future?"

Trowa nodded.

Heero shook his head.

"No. That feels too much like believing in destiny."

"And you don't."

"Of course not. If I believed in destiny… what the hell does that say about my life? If destiny exists then someone or something decided that a baby would grow up to be a prostitute without a family or a home. I'd rather believe in nothing. Besides, Hilde doesn't see the future. She sees possibilities."

"What do you mean?"

"If she saw the future, then it wouldn't matter if she told anyone – it would still happen, because the future is fixed, just like the past. But when Hilde tells people – like when she told Duo not to mess with Trant – she's changing the probability of that event occurring."

Trowa frowned.

"So you're saying that if she says something then it's not going to happen."

"Not necessarily – she had to beg Wufei to use his… power, and she saw that as a future possibility. I'm just saying that it's not _the_ future. It's _a _future."

Trowa nodded and found himself wondering what that meant for him. Hilde had seen a possible future with Duo, Heero, and him together – but that didn't mean it _was_ the future. It just _could_ be.

Trowa sighed. Which meant there was every possibility that Trowa's actions on Friday night had ruined whatever slim chance that future had of existing.

The rest of their lunch was in silence, but it was the first meal Trowa had ever shared with someone at Clarkson and he found himself enjoying Heero's silent presence.

Trowa decided to skip his usual afternoon library study session as well as his afternoon lit class and instead take a nap. He was completely exhausted after staying up all night and not having slept much in the days before.

"Same time on Thursday?" Heero asked as they parted ways outside the caf.

Trowa found himself nodding in agreement.

"Yeah. That'd be nice."

* * *

><p>Wednesday night Trowa picked up a pizza before heading over to Duo's apartment.<p>

"Welcome to my humble abode," Duo said when Trowa arrived. "Hilde's closing tonight so we should have the place to ourselves for a while. I was thinking either Dr. Strangelove or Full Metal Jacket for our viewing pleasure this evening."

"I've never actually seen all of Full Metal Jacket," Trowa confessed. "Only the last half."

"What? Blasphemy. Alright, we'll watch that then."

Duo gestured Trowa towards the couch while he went to the fridge and grabbed two beers for them.

Trowa settled back on the couch as Duo put in the movie and tried to force himself to relax.

He would tell Duo, but later. After dinner. After the movie.

After watching Pile blow out his brains in the latrine, Trowa _had_ to say something to Duo. It was ridiculous to continue acting as if nothing was wrong, and Trowa needed to tell him.

"Remember the day we killed Une?" Trowa asked.

Duo glanced over at him.

"Yeah. Kind of hard to forget a crazy bitch pointing a gun at my face."

"Everyone said what their new power was."

"Yeah – everyone except for you and Heero. It's not… do you mind not having something?"

Trowa grimaced.

"I _do_ have something. I can turn invisible."

Duo turned to face Trowa.

"You can turn invisible."

Trowa drew in a deep breath and decided to demonstrate. He willed his body to vanish.

"Holy shit." Duo was staring wide eyed at the spot where Trowa sat, now invisible to Duo's eyes.

"Yeah," Trowa agreed as he allowed himself to rematerialize.

"Why didn't you say anything before?" There wasn't any accusation in Duo's voice, just curiosity.

"Because I've always felt invisible – so this isn't something I'm… proud of."

"And I'm incredibly proud of my new ability to pick up shit before it falls to the ground and breaks," Duo muttered. "I don't think _any_ of us are that excited about what we can do now. But you aren't invisible, Trowa. You're… eye catching." Duo smirked and leaned close, clearly intent on kissing him.

Trowa sat back and Duo scowled.

"And I'm really confused about what's going on. You've hardly talked to me since Saturday and now… you're not interested in kissing me."

"If you kiss me now you're only going to hate me more later," Trowa said with a sigh.

"How the hell does that make any sense?"

"Last Friday I followed Hilde."

"Followed her?"

Trowa nodded.

"I was invisible. I just… wanted to try to figure her out. She dislikes me so much and she's important to you. So I just sat in the Ice Cream Shop for a while to see what she was like. When the shop closed I went outside and started to leave, but then I heard her screaming. The guy she works with –"

"Mitch," Duo supplied.

"Mitch. He was trying to rape her. I tackled him his head hit the dumpster and he died. So I killed someone."

"Wait. Let me get this straight. Mitch tried to rape Hilde and – holy shit. The news said he was killed by a mugger."

Trowa nodded.

"I took his wallet. We didn't think the cops would be inclined to believe what actually happened, so…"

Duo stared at him, his mouth slightly open.

"Why didn't you tell me when this fucking happened?" Duo eventually bit out.

Trowa started to answer, but the door to the apartment opened. Trowa winced when Hilde walked in.

"Hey guys," she said. "Everything okay?" She frowned when she took in Duo's angry expression.

"I don't know. You tell me." Duo said. "You and Trowa seem to be pretty good at keeping secrets with each other."

Hilde's eyes narrowed and she glared at Trowa.

"You told him?"

"He needed to know."

"No, he didn't. He didn't _want_ to know."

Trowa frowned, but before he could speak Duo jumped in.

"What the hell do you mean I didn't want to know?"

"You told me you didn't want to know the future!"

"What are you talking about?" Duo looked from Hilde to Trowa as he stood up.

"About my vision – about you, Trowa, and Heero together. What are you –" her glare turned glacial. "You told him about Mitch?" she shrieked at Trowa.

"Of fucking course he did!" Duo shouted over her. "And I'm really curious about why the fuck the two of you thought it was okay _not_ to tell me! You could have been killed Hilde! I told you Mitch was a creep and you –"

"This is why I didn't tell you! Because I'm not a child and I don't need you to babysit me!"

"No, you've got Trowa for that!"

Trowa frowned, not at all comfortable with _that_ idea.

"You don't care at all that he killed someone?" Hilde demanded.

"Of course I fucking care. But I care more about you and the fact that – Jesus Christ, Hilde!" Duo shook his head. "How could you not tell me about this?"

"Because I never wanted to think about it again! Because it was the worst night of my life and my stupid vision isn't good for anything!"

"Except saving my life," Duo pointed out despondently.

"And getting visions of your sex life," Hilde bitterly added, clearly not picking up on Duo's mood.

"Which you feel the need to share with everyone."

"I did not share it with everyone – he wanted to know! And since it involved him I told him."

Duo turned to Trowa with a frown.

"Is that why… you and Heero, huh?" Duo smirked and shook his head. "I can't blame you, he's a good looking guy."

"I don't care about that. I thought it was what you would want."

"What I would want? Trowa, all I want is _you_. I've wanted to be with you for eight months. But if this isn't… if I'm not enough for you or… I don't know. Maybe you need someone like Heero more than someone like me?" Duo drew in a deep breath and looked back at Hilde and then shook his head.

"I need to get out of here. I really don't know what to say to either of you right now. I don't even – fuck it."

A moment later he was gone, leaving Hilde and Trowa alone in the apartment that felt overwhelming empty without Duo's presence.

"I think you should go," Hilde said after a moment.

Trowa found himself agreeing.

"I'd like it if you didn't come back," she added as he walked to the door.

Trowa turned back to look at her in shock.

"Duo would be better without you. Or Heero I guess."

"That's his decision, isn't it?" Trowa pointed out.

Hilde nodded.

"That doesn't mean he won't make the wrong one. Do you really think that you can make him happy? That lying to him about all of this was okay? Do all of us a favor and make this easy for him."

Trowa decided that anything he wanted to say to her in this moment would be something he would later regret, so he left without another word.

* * *

><p>On Thursday morning Trowa couldn't decide whether or not to go to Joe's. He imagined that Duo wouldn't be too happy to see him, but he also didn't want to worry Duo by not showing up. Assuming Duo even cared one way or another about him living.<p>

_Fate_ decided for him.

As he walked out of his dorm he nearly ran into the two cops who had shown up at the police station last Saturday.

"Trowa Barton?" the woman asked.

"Yes?"

"We have a few questions for you," the man said, "if you have a few moments?"

"Questions about what?"

Had he pissed off Duo enough that he had gone to the police?

The two exchanged looks.

"About Sergeant Une and her disappearance. Can we talk in your room?"

The fact that Trowa actually relaxed made him realize just how fucked up his life had become.


	8. Chapter 8

Warnings: Angst, violence, language, drug use, abuse, supernatural things, sex, yaoi, yuri, het.

**Warning for Chapters Eight and Nine**: Reference to non-con. Nothing graphic, nothing… concrete. Just some references. I promise everything will be okay.

A/N: Based on Misfits, but draws from X-Men, Smallville, and Heroes as well. These kids aren't the complete burnouts that the Misfits are, but they are NOT perfect angels. Be warned.

A/N #2: Thanks to the always amazing Cuzo, more than a beta and no less than a friend.

A/N#3: Kind of an anti-Valentine's Day gift to all of my dear readers. This chapter is not filled with warm fuzzies - quite the opposite in fact. Sorry. But I DO love all of you for taking the time to read my work!

**Deviant**

Chapter Eight

_Only one more time_, Trant assured himself as he walked into the police station on Saturday morning. After today, he only had to come back to this hell hole one more time and then he was done.

He hated it here, hated the people, hated the stupid little police station, and hated the stupid chores they expected him to do.

All of it was ridiculous and a waste of his time.

Trant didn't belong here, not with these losers, and not dressed in an orange jumpsuit picking up garbage from the side of the road when he _should_ be in his soccer uniform playing in a game.

But instead he was here.

When he walked into the locker room he saw that most of the other guys were already there in the process of changing.

Against his will, Trant's eyes sought out Duo.

The townie had stripped down to his boxers and was in the process of pulling up the legs of his jumpsuit.

Trant hated looking at him, but the sight of Duo's lean body was impossible to turn away from.

Duo caught him looking and sneered.

"Show's over," Duo snapped as he zipped the suit up to his neck.

Trant's fists clenched at his sides but he turned away and went to his own locker to change.

_One more time_, he promised himself. Just today and then once more and he would hopefully never see Duo Maxwell or his half naked body again.

When they gathered in the briefing room at nine Trant found it curious that Duo sat by himself near the back of the room instead of attached to Hilde's side as he usually was.

"Today you're going to be sorting through the donations for the homeless shelter. There's food, books, toys, and clothes that you need to go through. Get rid of the dirty things or the junk and box up the clean, good items." Dorothy glared at each of them in turn, as if daring one of them to argue about the assignment.

Trant didn't care. This wasn't any more or less ridiculous than anything else they had been given to do.

"All of the donations are in the back warehouse. I'll take you out there in a moment. But first, I'd like to say that I am _done_ putting up with your laziness. You will work hard today and you will finish your tasks. If you don't I will be adding extra hours on to your service."

Trant swallowed hard. It was definitely beneath him to be here, but there was no way he would risk having to come another Saturday and miss even more of the soccer season.

"I'm putting you into pairs to work on things. If you don't finish, then both you and your partner will be held accountable."

_Great_, Trant thought, _which of these reprobates am I going to have to put up with now?_

"Hilde and Relena, you will sort the toys. Quatre and Wufei, the books. Trowa and Heero, the food. Trant and Duo will sort the clothes."

"I'll switch with Duo," Hilde and Trowa both said.

Trant turned to glare at them and was surprised to find Duo doing the same.

"Fuck you both," Duo muttered. "I don't need to switch."

Dorothy cleared her throat.

"Well, if that's settled, let me take you back to the warehouse."

They rose and followed her from the room.

The warehouse was nearly empty except for the enormous piles of boxes overflowing with food, books, toys, and clothes in each of the corners of the room.

"What the fuck?" Duo asked. "Have you been saving this shit for the last ten years?"

Trant silently agreed with his assessment. The piles were huge. There was no way they could get through everything.

"I suggest you get to work," Dorothy said with a smirk and gestured them towards the piles.

"Fucking bullshit," Duo muttered as he started towards the pile of clothes.

Trant followed and found himself admiring Duo's ass in the jumpsuit as he walked.

He caught himself and felt a wave of revulsion for himself and for Duo. This was disgusting. He needed to stop looking at Duo, to stop thinking about him, and to get the hell out of this place.

Duo immediately started to pull clothes from the pile and sort through them, ignoring Trant and everyone else.

Hilde walked over and put a hand on Duo's shoulder.

"Duo –"

He shrugged her off.

"You should get to work, Hilde," he said to her, a cold look in his eyes.

She sighed and walked away, her shoulders slumped in defeat.

"Trouble in paradise?" Trant taunted.

"Go fuck yourself," Duo muttered and went back to work.

Trant shoved him into the pile of musty clothes and walked around to the other side. At least the piles were high enough that he didn't have to look at Duo anymore.

* * *

><p>After lunch, they had made enough of a dent in the pile that Trant now had to look at Duo. Each time he stood up and caught sight of Duo's scowling face and his long braid of hair Trant was filled with anger.<p>

Why did he have to go through this ridiculous punishment? It was Duo's fault he was even in here in the first place – and now he was stuck working with him, having to look at him.

Duo clearly didn't feel the urge to look at Trant, though.

Every time he stood up after reaching for a piece of clothing his eyes would drift over to the pile of food and to Trowa.

Trant saw Trowa looking in Duo's direction several times as well, and he thought the entire thing was pathetic. Duo was pathetic. Trowa was pathetic. They were all pathetic.

"So you're fucking him?" Trant asked when Duo looked over at Trowa yet again.

Duo glared at Trant but remained silent.

"Of course you are. You're a fucking whore. You'd fuck anyone."

"Not you," Duo muttered.

"Not me but that freak?"

"He's not a freak," Duo snapped.

Trant scowled.

"Compared to you, I guess not. But compared to _me_ and other normal people, he's a fucking freak."

Trant had had a class with Trowa last semester. The man was practically mute, and it was creepy. He also walked around looking like he wanted to kill himself most of the time, and Trant found that to be both pathetic and irritating.

Still, knowing that Trowa, pathetic and creepy as he was, was fucking Duo when the braided man wouldn't even give Trant the time of day was annoying.

Trant couldn't believe that Duo would prefer _that_ to him.

He also couldn't believe that his mind refused to think about anything other than mental images of Duo naked.

Trant wanted to lash out at Duo, to punish him for putting such filthy pictures in his head, but before he could think of what to do, the two new cops from last Saturday walked into the warehouse.

"Which one of you is Trant Clark?" The long haired man called out.

Everyone looked at Trant.

The two cops approached.

"We need to ask you a few questions."

Duo sneered.

"Careful, officers. Don't let him bite you – he's rabid."

Trant glared at him but Duo just waved jauntily.

"Keep him as long as you can!" Duo called out as Trant followed the cops from the warehouse.

They led him to the cubicle that had been Une's office, where they had discovered the list of crimes that had sentenced each of them to community service.

"Sit," the woman said and gestured to the one chair in the office. She leaned back against the desk, while the man took up a position near one of the closed doors.

Trant sat down uneasily.

"I'm Detective Noin, and this is Detective Merquise. We've been called in to assist with a few local investigations."

"That wasn't a question," Trant told her.

She rolled her eyes and shot Merquise an annoyed look before continuing.

"When did you last see Sergeant Une?"

Trant had been wondering when anyone would get around to questioning them. It had been a week since her disappearance, after all.

He shrugged.

"Last Saturday."

"_When_ last Saturday?" Noin pressed.

"In the morning. She never came to pick us up."

Trant had spent hours debating with himself whether or not to turn the others in for killing the crazy bitch. He hadn't done anything to her – but he didn't trust the other seven not to lie and say that he had killed her. And with Relena and Quatre's connections it didn't take a genius to figure out who would be believed if they claimed that _he_ was responsible for her death.

"Hm. So how did you get back to the station?"

"We walked."

Noin nodded.

"You were convicted of disorderly conduct," Noin said, "but the file reads more like an assault charge."

Trant shrugged. He knew that his standing as a Clarkson College student, combined with his athletic record and his job as an RA had likely bought him a reduced charge.

"Do you have a history of violence?" Noin asked, a note of concern in her voice.

Trant sneered.

"Obviously not."

"Obviously," she agreed with a nod.

Noin and Merquise exchanged looks, but the blonde man shrugged and Noin stood back up.

"Alright, you can go back to work."

"That's _it_?" Trant asked.

Noin smirked.

"Sure. Unless you have something you want to tell us?"

"Yeah, I think all of this is bullshit."

Noin's eyes narrowed.

"Then try not to pick fights in public bars."

Trant bit back his urge to tell her off and instead stood up.

"Thanks for the break," he muttered and then stalked back to the warehouse.

Duo was still diligently working on the pile of clothes, and the others were focused on their work as well.

"What did you tell them?" Duo asked when Trant came back to the pile.

"About what?" Trant demanded.

Duo rolled his eyes.

"They asked you about Une, right?"

Trant scowled.

"You've already talked to them."

"Yeah, they came by Joe's Thursday morning."

"What did _you_ tell them?" Trant asked.

Duo smirked.

"I told them that you killed her and torched her body in the dumpster with the other furniture."

"You mother fucking asshole!" Trant grabbed Duo by the collar of his jumpsuit and threw him down on the hard concrete floor.

He leaned back to kick Duo but the other man rolled away, his reflexes shockingly quick.

Trant tried to punch him, but Duo dodged it with a grin.

"Chill out, you moron. I was fucking joking. I didn't tell them anything."

It took a moment for Trant to get his breathing under control and to calm himself down. It didn't help that Duo shook his head and immediately went back to work, that shit eating grin still on his face.

Trant wanted to punch Duo until he stopped smirking like that, and he wanted to never have to look at him or think about him again.

_One more time_, Trant reminded himself and went back to sorting the clothes, keeping as much distance between himself and Duo as he could.

_One more time_.

-0-

After practice on Friday Trant found himself more than usually frustrated.

The coach had decided to pull a few strings and get Quatre out of his last day of community service the next day so that the starting forward could play in the game against Berry. Trant, however, would still have to go. Apparently Coach H didn't mind having to start a second string center midfielder.

It was infuriating, to think that pathetic, sniveling fairies like Quatre Winner had everything laid out for them. He was the definition of a golden boy – he had good grades, athletic ability, friends, charm, good looks – he had everything.

While Trant struggled to find _something_. He didn't have the connections that Winner had, or a family legacy, or a very high GPA. He had been ignored during rush week his freshman year, and only his place on the soccer team assured him any standing on campus.

He had decided to become an RA because of the free room and because it gave him the chance to be more important than the whining freshmen and sophomores he had to babysit.

Everything that Trant did was a fight.

He was fighting society – fighting the elitists bastards who thought that someone on a need based scholarship wasn't worth their time; he had to fight his own parents and family who thought he was wasting his time doing this when he should be going to a tech college and training to be a plumber or something equally inane.

He also fought against himself, on a daily basis, and it was a fight he was losing.

It was wrong, fundamentally and morally wrong, but he was sexually attracted to other men.

If his mother knew she'd cry her eyes out. If his father knew, he'd beat the living shit out of Trant and disown him.

He had no idea _why_ he found the sight of other men changing in the locker room so captivating – but he would take the supple firmness of a man's shoulders over the sight of a girl's bouncy tits any day.

Trant had slept with girls, so he wasn't gay. In fact, he had never even so much as kissed a guy. His one attempt – the one night he had been drunk enough and depressed enough to finally give in to his desires and hit on a faggot – had ended in disaster and humiliation. And community service.

He wanted to assure himself that Duo Maxwell was just a stupid slut and not worth the effort, but every time he looked at him – every time he saw that long braid of hair or his toned biceps or his narrow hips or his firm little ass – Trant was confronted with a hundred images of that hard, hot naked body twined with his own.

It was a sin, but no matter how many times Trant told himself that he couldn't erase his desire. He tried to fight it and he punished himself and Duo for the horrible thoughts the other man aroused in him.

Trant was relieved that he only had to face Duo one more Saturday during community service. He knew that the townie worked at Java Joe's and he avoided the coffee house like the plague – he didn't' trust himself around Duo and he needed to limit his interactions with him as much as possible.

As an early celebration for his last day of community service, Trant went out to the sports bar near the railroad tracks on Friday night. It was mostly a local hangout, but they were Trant's kind of people – hard-working, honest, _straight_ men. He could spend a few hours drinking beer, watching hockey on the tv, and forget all about Duo Maxwell and his tight ass.

Except, as soon as Trant walked in he saw none other than Duo Maxwell at the pool table.

The townie was wearing a tight black t-shirt that clung to his torso and upper arms. Trant watched as he lined up a shot, the muscles in his arms flexing. It was criminal, Trant decided. It simply wasn't _fair_ for him to be tortured like this. He was so damn tired of it.

Duo took his shot and let out a whoop of excitement.

"I think you owe me fifty bucks, Frank," Duo said and held out his palm to a grizzled, burly man in plaid.

"You're a fucking pool shark, Maxwell," Frank growled but handed over the money.

"A lesson I pray you won't pass on to your friends!" Duo winked and pocketed the money. He reached for a beer on a nearby table and as he turned he caught sight of Trant.

All of the joy and animation in his face evaporated instantly.

That alone made Trant furious. He was disgusted enough with himself as it was – he didn't need Duo looking at him like that, hating him that much.

Duo finished off the beer in one long pull.

"Rematch?" Frank offered.

"Nah, time for me to be hitting the road," Duo said. "I'll catch you next week!"

Duo started to walk past Trant on his way to the exit.

"Thanks for ruining a perfectly good night," Duo muttered to him.

"Oh fuck you, I didn't ruin anything. Unless you're pathetic enough that you were trying to pick up that fat fuck over there?" Trant jerked his head in Frank's direction.

Duo sneered.

"Better him than you," he assured Trant.

Then there was _that_. Trant knew that Duo was gay, knew that he didn't have standards that were all that high – after all he flirted with Barton and Yuy during community service, and he was a prostitute. He had been busted for prostitution and yet he wouldn't give Trant the time of day.

Trant knew that he wasn't bad looking – he knew, for a fact, that he was fit and that enough girls hit on him that he had to be handsome. So why didn't Duo see that? Why was Trant so obsessed with him and Duo so completely uninterested?

He just needed to get this entire thing out of his system. Trant could control himself in the showers – he had trained himself not to stare too long at the other guys – but he couldn't control himself around Duo. But maybe fucking him, just once, would put all of this behind him. Maybe he would realize that fucking a guy wasn't any different than being with a girl and he could get over this and just date athletic girls. With long, braided chestnut hair.

Duo shoved past Trant and left.

It took Trant only a few seconds to decide that this was it – his last chance to put an end to this – and he needed to do that before it drove him crazy.

He turned to follow Duo.

The bar was almost a mile from downtown and the main road from the bar back to the town ran parallel to the abandoned railroad tracks that had once made Clarkson an important textile town.

Duo was walking down the tracks, balancing on one rail and clearly taking his time, enjoying the warm night and also clearly not thinking about Trant at all.

Trant watched him for a few minutes. Duo would disappear from sight every ten feet or so as he moved from one spill of streetlight to the next.

Finally, Trant had had enough. He got into his car and drove towards Duo.

He was almost beside him when the townie turned to look at the car.

"Fuck, just leave me _alone_," Duo growled.

"How much?" Trant asked, hating himself for stooping this low.

"What?" Duo asked.

"How much is this going to fucking cost me?"

Duo stopped walking and stared at him in shock.

"Holy shit, are you _kidding_? I am not a whore – and even if I was, you couldn't pay me enough to fuck you. I'm not interested. For the last fucking time, leave me _alone_."

Trant gripped the steering wheel tightly and then had to force himself to relax when he felt the frame giving way under his grip.

"What the fuck is your problem with me?" he demanded.

"My problem with _you_? Seriously? My problem with you is that you're an arrogant asshole who one minute punches me in the face and another tries to pick me up. Dude, you're _gay_. Being mad at me – that's not going to change anything. Just… accept who the fuck you are and get over it."

"Because it's that fucking easy," Trant snarled.

Duo shrugged.

"No. Because there are a lot of shitheads like you in the world that make life really fucking difficult."

"Oh, fuck you."

Duo grinned tightly.

"You wish."

Trant glared at him.

Duo sighed.

"You're serious, aren't you? You really want to sleep with me?"

"No, I really don't," Trant argued. "But I can't stop thinking about you and it's fucking irritating."

Duo smirked and crossed his arms over his chest.

"So you want me but you hate me at the same time. Man, what a turn on." Duo shook his head and took a few steps closer to Trant's car. "Look, here's some advice. Why don't you just go to the city, go to a gay club and fool around with someone that you _don't_ hate as much as you hate me? I'm sure you'd have a hell of a good time and you'd finally get off my back."

"I'm not gay."

"Sure. That's why you stare at my ass in the locker room at the police station. Because you're not gay."

"I am _not_ a faggot."

"Oh, is this where you're going to list all of the shitty things you can think of to call me? Because I can think of better –" Duo abruptly stopped talking when Trant slammed open the door of his car and it impacted with his body from his knees to his nose.

"Son of bitch!" Duo groaned and stumbled backwards.

Trant jumped out of the car and tackled him to the ground. He might have super strength, but Duo had quick reflexes. This was his one chance to put an end to this, and he wasn't about to waste it.

He hauled Duo up to his feet and slammed him face first against the hood of the car, wincing slightly at the dent it left. He would have to get that fixed.

"Get the fuck off me!" Duo struggled against him, but it was almost pathetic how easy it was for Trant to hold him in place.

The feel of Duo's hips and ass moving against his own had Trant hard in almost no time and he quickly stripped off Duo's jeans and yanked his boxers down.

Duo's pale, firm ass was illuminated by the streetlights and it made Trant's mouth water.

_I'm not gay_, he reminded himself as he reached towards the tight, dark ring of muscles.

"I'm going to fucking kill you, Trant!" Duo shouted and Trant slammed his head against the car again.

"I'm not gay," he said out loud to himself.

And this would prove it.


	9. Chapter 9

Warnings: Angst, violence, language, drug use, abuse, supernatural things, sex, yaoi, yuri, het. If you desperately need to know who is paired with who send me a message and I can tell you, but I'd rather you get to experience the evolution of the characters first.

A/N: Reference to non-con, but nothing graphic.

A/N #2: Thanks to the always amazing Cuzo, more than a beta and no less than a friend.

A/N#3: I bear no ill-will towards Delta Tau Delta – but I had to pick a fraternity and… well, there we go. Sorry to anyone who is offended.

A/N #4: Don't get too spoiled by these updates. I definitely won't be able to keep up this pace!

**Deviant**

Chapter Nine

When the lights from Treize's car illuminated the two figures bent over the hood of a car he immediately wrote them off as two college students or townies having a bit of exhibitionist fun. But then he recognized the man pressed against the hood of the car and saw the blood on his face.

The young grocery store clerk clearly wasn't a willing participant in whatever was going on, and Treize decided to intervene.

When he stopped his car and got out, the other man instantly abandoned his victim and jumped into his car before speeding away. Treize couldn't make out his license plate number, but he did see the flash of a Clarkson College student parking permit in the rear window.

Treize watched in silence as the young man – Duo, he remembered – pulled his boxers and jeans back up to his waist and fastened them.

"Can I drive you to the hospital?" Treize asked gently.

Duo hastily scrubbed at his eyes and then shook his head.

"No, I'm fine."

Treize rolled his eyes.

"You shouldn't bother lying if you're going to be that bad at it."

Duo scowled.

"I don't have any health insurance. I'm fine. It's just a few cuts and bruises."

Treize couldn't decide if Duo was telling the truth or if he actually _could_ lie.

"You can't go home looking like that," Treize pointed out.

"No shit," Duo spat and then let out a shaky breath. "Fuck. What the fuck –"

Treize could hear the despair start to build in his voice.

"Let me take you to my house and get you cleaned up," Treize offered, "I've got a first aid kit."

Duo looked at him incredulously.

"You don't even know me."

"Of course I do. You're the kid who always hits on me at Talley's and tries to carry my bags to the car for me."

Duo winced. "So it takes _this_ to get your attention, huh? Well, sorry, but I'm not up for anything else tonight."

"Duo."

The sound of his name stopped the man from walking away. Treize watched his shoulders tense.

"I'm not interested in anything but helping you."

"I don't _want_ your help," Duo growled, turning back to Treize with a wild look in his eyes.

Treize nodded in understanding.

"I know. But you need it. Come on." Treize gestured to the passenger side of his car.

Duo swallowed a few times, his throat working furiously, but then he nodded and got into the passenger seat.

Treize didn't bother to tell him to put on the seat belt, but put his own on before driving them back to his house a few blocks from the campus.

It was an old craftsmen bungalow, built almost eighty years ago, and Treize found himself briefly debating whether or not he cared that his neighbors – some of whom were colleagues – might see a bruised and bloodied young man going into his home. He decided that he didn't care.

Duo followed him inside, resembling a lost puppy more than a person as he meekly sat down on the couch while Treize went into the kitchen.

He pulled two glasses from a kitchen cupboard and filled one with ice and the other with bourbon. He picked up a linen napkin and then carried everything back out to his guest.

The long haired man on his couch seemed to be in a state of angry shock, but any evidence of his earlier tears was now gone, leaving his face pale except for the rapidly darkening circle around his right eye, the blood caked around his nose, and his split lips.

Treize wrapped a few cubes of ice in the napkin and pressed it gently against Duo's eye, releasing his hold when Duo's hand moved up to cover it.

"Here," he said and handed him the glass of bourbon.

Duo looked at it suspiciously.

"Best that I can offer in terms of a painkiller," Treize explained with a shrug.

Duo nodded and took a sip.

Treize left him to get the first aid kit from the bathroom and then sat down beside Duo on the couch and went to work trying to wipe the blood and dirt from his face.

"Why are you doing this?" Duo asked him, his voice raw.

"I'm a teacher," Treize said, though in truth _he_ didn't know why he was doing this. Duo was nothing to him, and Treize had never felt much empathy towards people who allowed themselves to be victimized.

Then again, maybe that was the difference. He barely knew Duo, but he was willing to bet that the man had put up a hell of a fight with whoever had attacked him – a man who had easily outweighed Duo by fifty pounds and been several inches taller than him.

"Please don't turn this into some fucking teaching moment about overcoming adversity or some shit," Duo muttered and Treize smirked.

"I teach European history, not self-help classes."

"So you're Trowa's professor?"

"Trowa Barton?" Treize frowned. The quiet student had never struck him as the violent type, but his build was consistent with that of Duo's attacker. He wished that he had gotten a look at the man's face before he drove off, but he had been fixated on the sight of Duo and his battered, tear streaked face. "That was him?"

"What? No. That wasn't – no, that wasn't him."

"Who was it?"

"Does it matter?" Duo asked bitterly. "I'm just some townie with a bit of a criminal history – the cops won't care what I say, not with some fancy ass lawyer to defend his sorry, rich ass."

Treize frowned as Duo's words reminded him of an incident seven years ago involving the Delta Tau Delta fraternity. As part of the hazing process, the fraternity had required one of the freshmen 'rushes' to bring a townie to the house and share the townie with the other brothers of the fraternity. The townie they had decided on had been a man – one of the few openly gay men in Clarkson – and the fraternity, not known for their open attitudes, had decided that a gang rape was in order to teach the townie that homosexuality was wrong.

The townie had gone to the police, but, just as Duo had pointed out, a swarm of lawyers had descended to protect their wealthy client's sons and the entire incident had been covered up. The only backlash that Delta Tau suffered was a requirement to do more community service projects than the other fraternities on campus.

Treize had served as the advisor to the school honor council, at the time, and had been more than a little pissed off at the college president for pressuring him into _not_ recommending that the entire house be expelled from Clarkson. Since the entire incident led to the funding of a new library and two new dorms, most of the college community had chosen to forget that anything had ever happened.

Treize knew almost nothing about the townie who had been involved. The man – his name had been something Maxwell - had been a soldier home for a few months before tours overseas – another motivation for the president to hush up the entire incident. He didn't need it getting out that his college didn't "support" the troops. Of course, the entire incident had been very tidily packaged when the soldier had committed suicide within weeks of the hazing ritual.

Clarkson might be a college town full of liberals and bleeding-hearts but it was still cruel and elitist. Treize could perfectly understand why someone like Duo would have no faith in legal justice.

"How old are you?" Treize asked and gently took hold of Duo's face to continue cleaning the cuts.

"Twenty two."

"Why didn't you go to college?"

Duo sighed.

"Is this seriously a Clarkson College sales pitch? Because I'm not interested."

Treize arched an eyebrow at him.

Duo sighed.

"No money. I _know_ I could have applied for federal aid, but I didn't want to be saddled with a bunch of debt."

"So instead you fulfill your life's ambitions by working at a natural food store."

"And the hardware store and Java Joe's. I'm saving up to go to a state school."

"What do you want to major in?"

Duo looked taken aback.

"No one's actually asked me that," Duo said. "Not even my – well, not anyone. People just think I'm never actually gonna get out of here and do it. But I want to be an architect."

"You'll have to go to graduate school."

"I know, but if I wait until I've got the money for that I'll never do it."

"Are you close?"

"Huh?"

"To having enough saved?"

"Yeah – well, sort of. Tuition keeps going up, and that sure as hell doesn't help. But in another two or three years, I'll have enough. I mean, I'll have to work while I'm in school, too, but I can manage."

Treize nodded in approval.

"A hospital visit will likely set you back some, but you should go. All of your plans won't mean anything if you've –"

"Nothing happened," Duo repeated angrily.

Treize decided to believe him and drop the issue.

He reached behind him for an alcohol swab from the first aid kit and knocked the glass of bourbon off the edge of the table.

Quicker than Treize would have thought possible, Duo reached out and caught the glass before it hit the ground and set it back on the coffee table.

Treize was impressed with his quick reflexes, but when Duo looked at him with a tense, worried expression he felt a surge of triumph.

Duo didn't just have quick reflexes. He _had_ moved impossibly fast and he knew it.

Treize couldn't help but smirk. _Finally_.

"Why don't you stay here tonight?" He suggested.

"Ah, no thanks." The younger man started to rise to his feet.

"Duo, please." Treize put one hand on his knee and gently pressured him to sit back down. "I'm only trying to help. If you go home like that your family will no doubt have a panic attack."

"My family's dead," Duo sighed. "It's just my roommate."

"And how will he react to the sight of you like this?"

Duo winced. "She'd freak out."

Treize nodded.

"So stay here. Why don't you take a hot bath while I set up the guest room?"

"A bath?" Duo echoed uncertainly.

"To relax you and soothe your body."

Duo continued to look uncertain.

"What happened to you tonight was wrong. But not everything that happens to you has to be bad."

Duo chuckled bitterly at that.

"I'll believe it when I see it," he muttered.

"Then start believing," Treize said.

He stood and started walking towards his bedroom and the master bathroom with its garden tub.

By the time he had the tub half full of nearly scalding hot water and a fair amount of rose-water scented bubbles Duo had joined him and stood uneasily in the doorway.

Treize eased past him to rummage in his bureau for a pair of pajamas.

He handed them over to Duo.

"Are these silk?" Duo asked.

"Yes."

"And that's a rose scented bubble bath."

"Yes. What is your point?"

Duo shook his head.

"Nothing, nothing… I just hope you never try to fool anyone into thinking you're straight – because if you think _I'm_ bad at lying…"

Treize smirked.

"Good thing that I don't try to hide what I am then."

Duo swallowed hard.

"Yeah. Good for you." He closed the door before Treize could say anything else.

By the time Duo emerged from the bathroom an hour later Treize had prepared the guest room and started to make plans for the future.

He had known that, statistically, there would be others like him. He wasn't enough of an egomaniac to think that the freak lightning storm six weeks ago had granted him and only him strange new powers. He had hoped that some of his students would exhibit powers – it would be most convenient if a sycophant like Wufei Chang could be useful – but having Duo as his first follower might actually be even more beneficial.

The townie clearly felt anger and even rage over his assault and Treize thought it was entirely possible that he would find the idea of _physical_ reparation entirely palatable. Add to that the fact that he was a virtual nobody, and he made the perfect addition to Treize's new army.

Now all he had to do was woo him.

"Do you work tomorrow?" Treize asked Duo when he appeared back in the living room, carrying his dirty clothes and looked more than a little childlike in the crimson pajamas that were too long for him.

"No, community service," Duo said. "My last day, actually."

Treize arched an eyebrow.

"I ah, got arrested for assault a few months ago. Told a guy I wasn't interested and he needed a bit of my fist in his face to get the message. At least, I _thought_ he got the message."

More good news, Treize thought. He needed to find out just who it was that had assaulted Duo that night. It would be useful information for molding Duo into what Treize needed.

"What time?"

"Nine, in the morning."

Treize nodded.

"I'll wake you at eight and make breakfast."

Duo frowned and looked ready to argue, but Treize stood and took his clothes from him.

"I can wash these for you tonight."

"I seriously don't get why you're doing this."

"Are you telling me that _no one_ is kind to you just because they can be?"

"No. People just aren't like that. People –" Duo stopped himself and shook his head. "People are shitheads."

"They can be," Treize agreed.

"You don't even like me," Duo pointed out. "I know you think I'm annoying at Talley's and I know you don't think I'm attractive. Especially not like this. Not unless –"Duo's face turned dark. "I'm not some weak little victim who needs someone to look out for me."

"Good. I don't like victims. They disgust me." Treize assured him and then smirked when Duo looked confused. "Survivors, though… I find those _very_ interesting."

Duo's eyes widened and then narrowed.

Treize decided to leave things there and gestured towards the guest room.

"Sleep well," he said to Duo and then left him standing in the hallway.

For Duo to trust him and follow him he couldn't push him too quickly. The morning would arrive soon enough, and Treize could continue to show Duo just how good things could be for him.

And not long after that, Treize would be able to set his real plans in motion.

-0-

The next morning Duo was, unsurprisingly, reticent and awkward. Treize couldn't blame him. The boy had been – or nearly had been, he still couldn't decide – raped and then spent the night in a stranger's home.

He looked both better and worse than he had last night. He was clean, and his face had lost the pale, sunken look of a wounded animal, but the bruising around his lips and eye had swollen and darkened. Treize estimated that it would be at least a week before Duo would look like his usual self again.

Treize made breakfast while Duo sat meekly at the kitchen counter and watched his movements with dark, haunted eyes.

He was starting to think that maybe Duo _was_ more of a victim than a survivor when the boy finally spoke up.

"If this is the usual treatment you give strangers you take home I'm going to have to start showing up on your doorstep every night."

Treize smirked and placed a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and waffles in front of Duo.

"If you came over that often I expect I'd think of ways for it to benefit me as well," he commented.

Duo arched an eyebrow at him.

"Chores in exchange for a feather bed, a bubble bath, and breakfast? I think I can swing that."

"I wouldn't call what I have in mind a _chore_ necessarily."

Duo frowned.

"Eat. You've got to be on your way soon," Treize told him before Duo could say anything. He wanted to keep him off-kilter for the time being.

After Duo had eaten his fill, Treize insisted on driving him to the police station for his community service.

"I don't even know your name," Duo said with a chuckle when Treize parked across the street from the small building.

Treize smirked and held out one hand.

"Treize Khushrenada."

Duo hesitantly shook his head.

"Well, thanks for everything… Treize."

"My pleasure, Duo… of no last name."

"Maxwell. Duo Maxwell."

Treize's mouth went dry.

"Do you have an older brother?"

"Had," Duo said with a scowl. He removed his hand from Treize's. "He died."

"I'm sorry. Was it recent?"

"No. Seven years ago." Duo's eyes and voice spoke of a retreat and Treize felt a surge of triumph.

This was simply too good to be true! It was as if destiny had seen fit to give him the perfect tool for bringing down the Clarkson administration.

"Take care of yourself," Treize told the young man.

"Yeah, I'll try." Duo looked as though he wanted to say something else, but then he shook his head and got out of the car.

Treize watched him walk into the police station and then drove towards the lake. It was getting late in the season, but it was a warm day and he was willing to bet that a few intrepid nature lovers would be hiking.

-0-

On Sunday afternoon Treize made his usual weekly trip to Talley's for groceries. He noticed that Duo was stationed at one of the checkout lines and took his time gathering his groceries until there was a lull in traffic and he could count on monopolizing the young man's time.

Treize moved over to Duo's line and waited patiently while he bagged some old woman's groceries and listened to her litany of complaints about the weather, the store, and life in general.

The bruise around Duo's right eye had darkened but the myriad of minor cuts on his face looked clean and faint, and his lips looked to be recovering nicely.

"…dear, what happened to you?" the old woman asked Duo.

The question clearly startled him, but he recovered quickly.

"Boxing club," he told her solemnly.

"Hmph. Perhaps you should stick to more delicate pursuits," she said with a glance to his braid.

He smirked at her.

"But I like the dangerous ones," he assured her.

The woman clearly didn't know how to handle that, so she shook her head and rolled her cart away.

"Looks like everything is healing," Treize said by way of greeting.

"Yeah. The eye hurts like a bitch, but I'll be fine."

Duo started to scan and bag Treize's groceries.

After Treize paid for them, Duo smirked.

"Need a hand taking these out to your car?" he asked.

Treize found it more than a little amusing that Duo hadn't given the old woman such an offer.

"Yes, thank you," he said after a moment.

Duo grinned and picked up the bags and followed Treize to the parking lot.

"Am I supposed to tip you for this?" Treize asked as Duo loaded them into the trunk.

"Nope. Just doing my job."

"Hm."

"I never said that you were annoying," Treize mused.

Duo looked at him over his shoulder.

"You didn't have to _say_ anything – it was clear enough in the way that you smirked at me and said no every time I offered to do this."

"Perhaps you read too much into things then. You amused me – especially your tenacity."

Duo grinned crookedly.

"Yeah, well, I try to go after the things I want."

Treize was counting on that.

"I also never said that I didn't find you attractive."

Duo finished loading the groceries and closed the trunk. He turned around and leaned back against it.

"You're saying that you _do_ find me attractive?" He stuck out his jaw and turned his head slightly to display his black eye. "Especially now, right?"

"Not especially, no. But that will heal." Treize reached out and brushed Duo's bangs behind his ear. "And yes, I'm saying that I _do_ find you attractive. A bit young for my tastes, but attractive nonetheless."

Duo arched an eyebrow.

"And you feel inspired to comment on it now because…?"

"Because now you interest me. Before you were simply a brash young man. Now…well, now I'm curious about you."

"That whole survivor not a victim thing again?" Duo hazarded. He crossed his arms over his chest. "What if I'm not interested anymore?"

Treize arched an eyebrow.

"Then why did you carry my groceries to my car?"

Duo shrugged and then shook his head.

"You're right, I am shit at lying."

A skill that Treize knew he would quickly have to remedy.

"Come over for dinner Tuesday night."

Duo seemed on the verge of saying no, but then he grinned.

"Yeah, okay. What time?

"Seven."

"Sure. I'll see you then." Duo pushed away from the car and walked back into the grocery store.

As Treize drove home he reflected on just how easy all of this was. Too easy, almost. Duo was so starved for attention and affection that Treize was confident he would have the young man eating out of his hand in no time.

-0-

On Monday, Treize made a few calls around campus to see if there was an open, entry level staff position. He was fully prepared to ensure that there _was_ an opening, if necessary, but fate once again seemed to be looking out for him. There was an opening on the housekeeping staff. It wasn't a glamorous job, but it was full time and carried a few benefits. It was also perfect positioning for Treize.

His Russian history class on Tuesday was as dull and uninspiring as usual. He found himself increasingly frustrated with just how complacent his students were. Likely it was a product of their upbringing – every one of them had had a life cushioned by luxury and fully expected that by paying their tuition they had done enough to earn A's in all of their classes.

There were exceptions, of course, like Wufei Chang, Trowa Barton, and even Meilin Long who was enrolled in his course on the European Enlightenment and seemed to think that it was her personal mission in life to ensure that Women's was a prefix added to every course taught in the history department.

But Wufei was a follower – he wasn't inspired. He craved attention and justification, but he relied on others to judge his worthiness. Trowa Barton, on the other hand, was a mystery to Treize. The boy was clever, and his essays were a bright spot on an otherwise dull canvas. Yet he seemed to completely lack any will to succeed or even survive.

Treize wondered just what his relationship was with Duo, and if that was something he could also exploit. The trouble, of course, was that he wouldn't be able to manipulate Trowa like he could Duo. Trowa struck Treize as one of those perpetually depressed liberal elitists who would go through life miserable, never able to grow or be passionate about anything. Treize couldn't manipulate someone who wasn't passionate.

But Meilin and Wufei were certainly passionate. It was a shame that they hadn't exhibited any signs of powers like Duo had. Those two were crusaders, and he could use followers of their caliber.

Perhaps he would cultivate them. Even without powers they would be useful and were already influential.

He held Meilin after class that afternoon on the pretext of discussing her recent midterm.

"I followed the instructions," Meilin said guardedly as soon as the last student left the classroom. "You asked that we examine the influential figures of the Enlightenment and I did – you can't say that women weren't influential."

"I'm not," Treize assured her, amused.

"Okay…"

"I merely wanted to ask why you were bothering with a Women's Studies major."

"Bothering?" she echoed and he could see her working up a righteous anger. "I bother because it's something worth studying and –"

"Yes, but what are you going to _do_ with it? Bury yourself at some liberal college up north and write essays attacking the patriarchal misogynists of this country? Or do you actually want to _do_ something with your life?"

"And you're saying that a history major would do that? Let me _do_ something?"

Treize shrugged one shoulder.

"That alone won't be enough, but it won't be the handicap that a Women's Studies degree is. Continue down that field and everyone will simply write you off as a little girl with too much time on her hands. Specialize in Women's history, if you must – be become a history major and a degree from Clarkson will open countless doors to you. Graduate school, law school, internships – research positions at leading think tanks. You have to position yourself to succeed."

"Why are you telling me this now? I had you last semester for Women and Imperialism and you didn't really care that I was a Women's Studies major."

"True," Treize agreed. "I rarely care what freshmen want to waste their time on. But this is the second class you've taken with me and I can tell that you aren't just another sheep in the flock."

Meilin arched an eyebrow.

"I'm a special sheep?" she asked sarcastically.

Treize smirked.

"I was thinking more along the lines of you being a wolf – and the rest of the sheep will be so intimidated by you that you can do whatever you want."

Meilin tilted her head to one side, a slow smile spreading on her face.

"I'll think about it."

"Excellent." Treize reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. "Now, we should talk about summer internships –"

Meilin stiffened as soon as he touched her and a moment later she drew in a shuddery breath and stepped away from him. Her face had gone very pale and her pupils were dilated.

"Are you alright?" Treize asked.

"I'm – I'm fine." Meilin swallowed hard and seemed to pull herself together. "Just a… nothing. It was nothing. I'm fine." She wiped at the spot on her shoulder where Treize had touched her and then looked at her hand, as if expecting it to have something on it.

Treize scowled at her strange behavior.

"I, ah, I have to go." Meilin started to back away from him, running into a desk as she did before she actually turned and fled the room.

Once she was gone, Treize examined his own hands, but there was nothing on them. What then, had possibly inspired the girl to react like that? She had looked as though she had seen a ghost – her entire body had seemed frozen in terror after Treize touched her.

Meilin had seemed so convinced that her hand would be dirty when she looked at it. Dirty or… bloody.

Treize chuckled.

Bloody, she had definitely looked at her hand as though she expected it to be dripping with blood. As though she expected _Treize_ to be dripping with blood. Which only meant one thing – she knew. Somehow by touching him Meilin had been able to see what he had done and who he really was.

Fate, Treize decided, certainly seemed to favor him.

-0-

When Duo showed up at seven that night on Treize's doorstep he had a bottle of red wine in one hand and a bottle of white in the other.

"I didn't know what you were making, so…" Duo explained as he passed the bottles to Treize.

He was a little taken aback by the gesture. Perhaps it had been unfair of him, but he had thought Duo to be too poorly bred to know to bring over something to drink. Treize glanced at the labels on the two bottles and was further surprised to see that both were of a decent quality.

So Duo had manners _and_ taste. This was looking better and better all the time.

He also cleaned up nicely. He was dressed in khakis that fit him without looking indecent, dress shoes, and a navy v-neck sweater that emphasized the strange shade of blue of his eyes.

Treize was impressed, and he wasn't impressed with people very often.

"Make yourself at home while I finish cooking – it should only be a few moments. Can I get you anything to drink?"

"I'm fine," Duo said and wandered towards the open door to the library that Treize also used as an office. "Mind if I look at your books?" He asked.

"By all means."

Treize watched Duo peruse the shelves for a few minutes and decided that he might need to revise his strategy. Duo responded well to attention and affection – he had been particularly receptive to Treize touching his hair on Sunday afternoon – but he wasn't the ignorant townie that Treize had written him off as.

Duo started to thumb through the fourth volume of Churchill's _History of the English Speaking Peoples_ and Treize swore to himself. Definitely not an ignorant townie.

He retreated to the kitchen to finish dinner and think.

In all honesty, it was a good thing that Duo was intelligent – or at least appeared to be – and certainly a good thing that he had manners. It would make this more palatable for Treize, and a minion who could think and show initiative would certainly be more useful than a mindless drone. But also more dangerous. Treize would have to pay very careful attention to Duo.

Treize took the chicken out of the oven and put it on the dining room table before sorting through the roasted vegetables and adding them to two plates and setting them out with the food. He poured each of them a glass of Chardonnay that he had put in the fridge earlier to chill and added Duo's bottle as well.

After the table was set he went to track down Duo and found that he had moved on from Churchill and was leafing through St. Augustine's _Confessions_. Treize felt like groaning in frustration at the look of concentration on Duo's face. The boy was an _intellectual_ now?

"Dinner is ready… unless you prefer the company of a monk to mine?"

Duo looked up guiltily.

"Sorry. I was just looking for this quote – the local library's copy of this went missing about a year ago and they haven't replaced it and I can't – ah ha! Here it is! I _knew_ it was Augustine. "Hope has two beautiful daughters. Their names are anger and courage; anger at the way things are, and courage to see that they do not remain the way they are."

Treize arched an eyebrow.

"Is this in reference to your recent… nightly activities?"

Duo snorted in derision and put the book back, exactly where Treize usually kept it.

"No. _That_ was something I was trying to tell my friend the other day. She's feeling a bit lost right now, and more than a little pissed at the world."

Treize wished that Duo had reminded him of the quote earlier – it would have been very useful to use in his discussion with Meilin. But it would certainly be beneficial with Duo now.

The younger man followed him into the dining room.

"Smells amazing," Duo said as he sat down and put his napkin in his lap.

"Do you prefer white or dark meat?" Treize asked him.

"Whichever is fine," Duo said and then caught the irritated look Treize sent him. "But I prefer white," he added a little sheepishly.

Treize put one breast on Duo's plate and took the other for himself.

"Wow, this is really good," Duo said after taking a bite of the chicken.

"Thank you," Treize said with a smirk. "I'm surprised that you read St. Augustine."

Duo arched an eyebrow.

"Why?"

"It's a bit heavy and deep," Treize said bluntly.

"Yeah, but you know, after a while I got tired of reading the same old picture books so I thought I'd try reading something with words… and you know, Confessions is actually pretty slim, so…" Duo held his gaze for a moment, a challenge in his eyes.

Treize smirked and Duo relaxed slightly.

"I read everything, really. When I was a kid the library was the only place I could go to and be on my own, and reading… I don't know, I like learning about new things and thinking about people and places that aren't _me_."

Treize nodded in appreciation of that sentiment. _That_ was something he could use, certainly.

"But you like Augustine?" He pressed.

"He's okay – I like the fact that he was a pretty wicked guy until his old age and _then_ decided to get serious about being serious. That's my kind of guy, for sure. If we're talking old Christian monks and their crazy ideas about society, I'll take Aquinas over Augustine any day – talk about a revolutionary who wanted to upset social order."

"And do _you_ want to upset social order?"

"No more or less than any other poor kid, I guess," Duo said with a shrug. "But growing up in Clarkson, with that damn college right down the road the having to deal with the pricks who go there… yeah, I guess I'm a little inspired to want things to change."

"Anger and courage," Treize remarked drily.

"Anger and courage," Duo agreed and lifted his wine glass in Treize's direction before taking a sip.

"So you grew up in Clarkson?" Treize asked after a few moments of silence.

"Not originally. My family lived in the city but my parents died when I was eight and my brother and I were put into foster care and the home we went to was here. I've been here ever since."

"Your brother, was he younger than you?"

"Older. He was in the military, actually."

"Is that how he died?"

Duo's lips twisted into a sneer and Treize decided not to push the matter any further tonight. This was clearly a delicate subject, and Treize would have to be careful not to push him too far.

Duo shook his head.

"You know, there's an opening on the college staff."

Duo arched an eyebrow.

"Nice subject change… but I'm not sure I follow you."

"You said that you work three jobs – I'm guessing none of those is full time."

"No."

"And the pay? Is it even above minimum wage?"

"Ah, no," Duo said reluctantly.

Treize nodded.

"I'm saying there is a full time job working for the college that would give you health care, a decent salary, and the chance to become a part time student."

Duo frowned.

"I couldn't afford to pay for classes at Clarkson – even part time."

"Of course you could. College employees can take up to two courses a semester for free and pay only twenty-five percent tuition for any additional courses."

Duo leaned back in his seat, a slight frown on his face.

"What kind of job?"

"It's in housekeeping."

"So I'd be a janitor."

Treize shrugged.

"A janitor making twenty-two thousand dollars a year." The number was pathetic compared to Treize's salary, but as he had predicted, Duo's eyes widened at the number.

"Twenty-two thousand dollars a year to pick up trash and mop the floors?"

Treize nodded.

"Plus the benefits and the course waivers."

"Don't get me wrong, that all sounds incredible, but I'm not… it's not like I'm in any shape to go for a job interview right now." He gestured to his eye.

"I explained that, and –"

"Wait, wait, you _explained_ it? To who?"

"To Randall, the head housekeeper. I told him that you had a run in with a Clarkson student and he doesn't hold that against you. Add to that my recommendation and…"

"So you, what, applied for a job for me?"

"There's no application involved," Treize said. "The job is yours. All you need to do is fill out the paperwork."

Duo shook his head.

"Hang on a second here – I'm – you – what the hell is going on here? You don't even know me and you're getting me a job working at Clarkson – you didn't even _ask_ me if I'd like to work at the same place where –" Duo stopped and shook his head. "This is just too weird."

Treize sighed and fought down a wave of irritation.

"Duo. I said this before – not everything that happens to you has to be bad. Good things can happen to you as well. _This _is a good thing. _I_ am a good thing." He shook his head. "But if you are honestly too scared to work on the campus of someone who raped you then –"

"He _didn't_ – and I'm not scared. I just… it's a different world, that place, and it's sure as hell not _my_ world."

"So you've got the anger but no courage?" Treize mused, allowing his disappointment to color his words.

Duo scowled and angrily brushed his bangs back from his forehead.

"I'd be making a hell of a lot more than I am now," he eventually muttered. "With that kind of money… I could be out of here by next year, two at the most."

Treize remained silent as Duo spoke. Whatever decision Duo made would affect his usefulness to Treize. If he made the wrong decision, then Treize would have wasted this effort for nothing in return. Well, he thought ruefully, not _nothing_. Perhaps he could entice Duo to go for a hike and test out his skills on the boy. Treize wasn't sure what the extent of his powers were, but it was clear that he could move exceptionally fast. Treize needed to find his limits, and he was certain that Duo would provide a decent challenge.

"Fine. You're right. I need this and I definitely want it. Putting up with a bunch of rich assholes won't be anything new, anyway." He met Treize's gaze. "I feel strange, though. I owe you – for this, for the other night – I –"

Treize held up a hand to forestall Duo's words.

"I said it before, I'm a teacher. I feel a duty to help you reach your full potential."

Duo frowned but nodded eventually.

"My full potential as a janitor," he said with a smirk.

"For now. It's a stepping stone."

The rest of the meal, and the evening, went according to plan. Treize was very pleased with himself when he ushered Duo out of his house in the early hours of the morning.

It had taken nearly an entire bottle of wine for the man to relax and become agreeable to Treize's advances, but he eventually convinced Duo that a show of physical gratitude wouldn't be entirely out of order.

Three shows of gratitude later, and Treize was, at the very least, appreciative of Duo's youth and vigor.

An intelligent minion and a good lay – Duo was certainly an excellent pawn.

Now Treize just needed to figure out how to use Meilin's absolute – and very well founded – terror of him to turn her to his side.

It looked as if things were finally started to fall into place.

-0-


	10. Chapter 10

Warnings: Angst, violence, language, drug use, abuse, supernatural things, sex, yaoi, yuri, het. If you desperately need to know who is paired with who send me a message and I can tell you, but I'd rather you get to experience the evolution of the characters first.

A/N : Thanks to the always amazing Cuzo, more than a beta and no less than a friend.

A/N#2: To everyone asking for a Heero POV: it's coming up, I promise. But you have to wait a few more chapters.

A/N#3: Holy Crap it's been forever since I updated this!

Deviant

Chapter Ten

Duo's first day of work fell on a Tuesday, more than a week after his final day of community service, and his eye, nose, and lips had healed enough that he didn't look like a reject from Fight Club anymore. There were still a handful of small cuts on his face, courtesy of Trant shoving his face against a gravel road, but even those were now faint.

It was _almost_ just a bad dream. Almost, except for the fact that every time Duo looked in the mirror he thought about it, thought about how completely powerless he had been in the face of Trant's strength and determination. Almost, except for the fact that Duo honestly felt like he would never, ever be able to look Trowa in the eye again.

Last Saturday, the final day of community service, Duo had decided to simply ignore everyone – from Trowa and Hilde to Trant himself. He hadn't spoken to anyone, hadn't even looked at anyone.

He was disgusted and ashamed and he felt like a weak idiot. He should have simply started to run when he saw that it was Trant in the car – but Duo was too stupid and too prideful – he didn't want Trant to win, and he hadn't wanted to give that bastard the victory of making him run away.

So instead he had given Trant the victory of destroying his life.

Duo could only imagine how Hilde felt, the night that Mitch had assaulted her, and now he understood perfectly why Hilde hadn't said a word to him about it – why would she, when Duo was perhaps the most incompetent and useless person in Clarkson? It only made sense that Hilde, who knew him best, had known just how pathetic Duo really was. He couldn't protect himself – how in the hell could he protect her?

So now he was going to start his illustrious career as a janitor.

Duo was, in all truth, grateful for the job. It paid a hell of a lot more than the three jobs he juggled and had better hours. Of course, it was at Clarkson College, which meant that Duo would now have to deal with shit heads and spoiled bastards on a regular basis.

But Duo couldn't shake the sensation that his life had taken a turn for the worse. Maybe it was the lingering, phantom feel of Trant's hands gripping his hips hard enough to bruise. But for some reason Duo felt like Friday night had only been the start of something much worse.

Just _how_ things could get worse than Friday night, Duo didn't much care to find out.

So now, at six a.m., Duo found himself walking into the maintenance office on the Clarkson campus and asking for Randall.

The head housekeeper turned out to be an ancient man with flaming red hair. Duo had no idea what Treize had told him, but Randall introduced himself and then immediately launched into a lengthy diatribe about how snotty the Clarkson students could be. As he gave the lecture, Randall showed Duo around the campus – and it seemed that each new building reminded the old man about some heinous act that the students had committed that Duo should know of. By the time they returned to the maintenance office at nine, Duo was vaguely worried that Randall was plotting to kill all of the students in their sleep.

Randall assured Duo that he had the best schedule – working six to three, with an hour break at ten – and the least active buildings in the morning, the theatre and the music building, both of which had most of their classes in the afternoon. Neither of which, Duo hoped, taught any classes that Trowa or Trant would be in. He knew that Trowa didn't have an interest in performing arts, and he could only hope that Trant's general attitude with the world precluded a passion for music or theatre.

On his way home for the day, Randall gave him three red polo shirts emblazoned with the Clarkson College logo and told him to wear black pants with the shirts.

He had a date scheduled that night with Treize – although date, Duo thought, was a gross overstatement. Duo was certain that like all the other nights he had spent with Treize, they would have a light meal, hours of sex, and then Treize would kick him out in the early morning.

But that was hours away, and this was perhaps the first afternoon Duo had had free in years. He knew that Hilde would be getting off work in an hour and would be home soon after, so he decided it was time to make amends.

It wasn't that Duo was still angry with her – in fact he was more angry with himself than he had ever been with her. But he didn't know what to say to her, or even really how to act around her anymore.

A quick run to Talley's – even without his employee discount it was going to be hard to give up shopping at the store, he was too spoiled by the taste of organic food now – and Duo had all the ingredients he needed to apologize to Hilde.

By the time she came home at four thirty, Duo was almost finished with making French Toast, Hilde's one true weakness when it came to food.

She sniffed the air when she entered, and a look of pure bliss crossed her face before she caught sight of Duo and her entire body tensed.

Duo sighed. This was all his fault – she shouldn't be suffering for it.

"Hey," he said.

She frowned.

"Hey?" she echoed uncertainly.

"We should talk." He held out an empty plate to her.

Slowly, Hilde walked over and joined him in the kitchen.

"Are you finally going to tell me what happened to you last Friday night?"

Duo shrugged.

"Bar fight."

"Again?" She sounded disbelieving, but Duo just shrugged.

"You know me…" Duo trailed off. "Hil, I'm an asshole."

She searched his face for a moment before smiling slightly.

"Tell me something I _don't_ know," she said softly.

Duo chuckled.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have – fuck, Hil, I shouldn't have done a lot of things in the last two weeks. I'm sorry I ignored you, I'm sorry I was angry with you. I'm sorry I –"

"Duo, are you going to stand here and apologize for everything you've ever done wrong? Because I don't really have that kind of time."

He glared at her, but Hilde only smirked in response. She reached out and hugged him.

"I'm sorry too. I wanted to tell you, but I just… felt so completely fucking pathetic." She released him and sat back. "I can see the future but I can't even see myself getting attacked by Mitch! And I… I shouldn't have told Trowa what I saw. I'm sorry."

Duo shrugged.

"No. It doesn't matter."

He had been upset about that, especially when it seemed that Trowa liked the idea. Duo really didn't have anything against Heero, but he didn't want to share Trowa with him. Not that any of that mattered now.

Duo sighed. At least those two had a chance together, he hoped.

"So… you weren't at work today," Hilde said. She finally took a bite of the French Toast and actually moaned at the taste. Duo couldn't help but smirk.

"Actually, I've got a new job."

She frowned and he could actually _feel_ her internal battle over whether or not to be angry with him for not telling her.

"Where at?" she eventually asked, her tone surprisingly even.

"Clarkson College. Housekeeping staff… so it's pretty lame, but the pay is… really fucking awesome."

"You're… a janitor?"

"Housekeeper," Duo corrected, though in his own mind he still hadn't worked out which one sounded worse.

"So do you have a feather duster and a lacy apron?"

Duo made a face at the suggestion.

"So, we're okay now?"

"Yeah," he told her and draped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer. "We're okay."

"And… you and Trowa? You didn't talk to him at the last day of community service."

"I didn't talk to _anyone_," Duo pointed out. He hated lying to Hilde, but if he told her the truth she would only worry about him… then again, she might get a vision of the truth and then she would be _really_ pissed. He sighed.

"I don't think things are going to work out, for us."

"I'm sorry." To her credit, Hilde did sound genuinely regretful.

Duo added more syrup to his French Toast.

"Anyway," he said to change the subject, "anything fun happen with you today?"

* * *

><p>At seven, Duo showered and changed into his nicer jeans and a sweater. He had noticed that Treize seemed to prefer him in a cleaned up state, as opposed to his standard casually-borderline-hippy attire. It bothered Duo, a little, that Treize liked a polished, superficial version of Duo, but on the scale of things that bothered him in their relationship it was at the bottom.<p>

Having Treize rescue him had been… surreal, to say the least. Having the attractive college professor then ask him out had gone past surreal and moved into the realm of unbelievable.

Sleeping with Treize, however, had been the most _real_ thing that had happened to Duo since getting struck by lightning two months ago. It hadn't been entirely pleasant, and it showed no signs of getting better with practice. Last Tuesday night, Duo had thought that being with another man, of his own volition, would help erase any thoughts of Trant. Duo had been wrong, and the Friday and Sunday nights after that hadn't changed anything either.

Duo found himself beyond grateful that Treize was such a raging bottom – he had no idea how he would react to having another man looming over him, playing a dominant role, after Trant. Still, whenever Treize looked at Duo there was a certain cold, analytical look in his eyes that chilled him. It didn't help matters that Duo flinched whenever Treize touched him, or that the older man sneered whenever he caught Duo reacting.

But Treize was right about one thing – Duo didn't want to be a victim. He wanted, he _needed _to be a survivor. If that meant a few weeks of emotionless sex and literally the worst orgasms of his life, then Duo would do it.

Better that than having to go through the torture of seeing Trowa's disgust for him. And Duo was confident that Trowa would be disgusted. The physical side of their relationship had never progressed to anything that required complete nakedness, mostly because Duo felt that rushing into it, considering Trowa's reluctance to begin _any_ kind of relationship, would only ruin things, but what little sexual activity they had engaged in had more or less indicated to Duo that Trowa likely preferred being a top to bottoming. Which Duo had been fine with – even eager about, considering the complete lack of action he got around Clarkson and the fact that he genuinely liked the feeling of having another man inside him. But that had been before Trant.

Now, Duo found himself freaking out every time Treize approached him from behind and he woke up in the middle of the nights, sweat covering his body and heart racing, reliving that night.

Treize kicking him out after sex instead of inviting him to sleep over was another thing Duo was grateful for – it meant that he got in so late most nights that Hilde was already asleep, so he didn't have any questions to answer about where he had been. It also meant that he didn't have to see the disgust on Treize's face when he cried out in fear and frustration, fighting his way through dreams and memories.

Tuesday night was, as Duo had predicted, much like every other night they had spent together. Treize made dinner, and after they had cleaned the kitchen together they moved the evenings activities to Treize's bedroom.

And, just as before, when Treize approached Duo from behind and put a hand on his hip Duo shifted away uneasily and turned so that he was facing the other man.

Treize scowled at him.

"Perhaps I've been wrong about you all this time," Treize mused, and the look in his eyes filled Duo with shame. "It's been more than a week, yet still you flinch and I can practically _smell_ your fear."

Duo swallowed hard.

"I don't like being touched from behind, it doesn't make me a victim," Duo pointed out, even though he knew it was a lie. It _did_ make him a victim, and every encounter he had with Treize seemed to reinforce that.

Treize snorted.

"Absolutely pathetic. Here I was thinking that you were stronger than your brother… but maybe _he_ had the right idea after all. Killing himself was at least some kind of action."

Duo felt his heart actually skip a beat at Treize's words.

"What are you – you know about my brother?"

Treize sneered.

"_Everyone_ at Clarkson knows. At least the faculty. The cover up wasn't that detailed."

"What cover up?"

The look in Treize's eyes turned speculative.

"No one wanted the students implicated to be expelled. After all – the life of one townie didn't compare to more than one million dollars in tuition."

Duo had no idea what Treize was talking about, and it must have shown on his face.

Treize's eyes widened and then narrowed. A smirk curved his lips upward, and Duo felt a chill at the predatory expression.

"And you have absolutely no idea what happened to your brother, do you?"

Duo frowned.

"No," he finally admitted. "I found his body but… no, I don't know what happened."

Treize shook his head, but he appeared anything but remorseful. He stepped past Duo and laid down on the bed, stretching out and lacing his fingers behind his head. He turned slightly so he could look Duo in the eyes.

"A few years ago – seven years ago, I believe?" Treize waited until Duo nodded in agreement. "Yes. Seven years ago Delta Tau Delta decided that their hazing ritual that fall would involve a certain townie who was, to put it mildly, a flaming homosexual. Apparently he had tried to pick up a few members of the frat and they wanted to teach him a lesson. He was raped by no fewer than twelve members of the frat."

Duo closed his eyes against the mental image and fought to keep his breathing even and the contents of his stomach down.

"He went to the police… but, as you pointed out earlier, the Clarkson community doesn't like to involve its students in criminal cases. Everything was covered up – which was very easy to do after your brother had the good sense to kill himself. How did he do it, anyway? The papers never said."

Duo lost the fight with the bile in his throat and had to sprint to the bathroom.

As he knelt in front of the toilet, vomiting and then dry heaving after his stomach was completely empty, Duo had to fight back the urge to cry.

Solo had always said – boys don't cry. Solo – _Solo_.

At some point, Treize came into the bathroom and leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed and a look of boredom on his face.

Eventually Duo stood and tried to rinse his mouth out with water from the sink.

"He was in the military, wasn't he? So did he shoot himself? Or did he cut his wrists? I wonder –"

"He hung himself," Duo interrupted harshly. He had to grip the edges of the sink to support himself, and he glared at Treize's reflection in the bathroom mirror. "There was no blood. No knife, no bullet. Just a fucking rope."

"Hm. Is that how you'd do it?"

The question floored Duo.

"What?"

Treize shrugged one shoulder.

"Surely you've thought about it – how you'd like to go. Do you plan on following in your brother's footsteps? After all, you're already –"

"Fuck you," Duo growled. "Fuck _you_."

Treize rolled his eyes.

"The point is that you _do_ fuck me, Duo. But what would happen if I laid a hand on that tight ass of yours, hm?" Treize took a step forward and Duo moved back. "Exactly. You're pathetic. So I'm asking, do you plan on hanging yourself as well?"

Duo wasn't normally a violent person, but he felt an almost overwhelming urge to _hurt_ Treize, physically, as much as the other man was hurting him.

"Or are you too afraid to do even _that_?" Treize continued, his tone softer and the words cutting even deeper. "Because you certainly aren't a survivor, or a fighter. This attitude of yours – it's very disappointing. You were amusing, for a time, but now –"

Duo shoved Treize back against the doorframe and Treize's eyes narrowed further.

"Yes?"

Duo clenched his fists in the fabric of Treize's shirt and then released him and stepped back.

As he did so, Treize swung his right fist towards Duo's face.

Duo caught his wrist just before the punch connected with his face.

"But then, you are special, aren't you?" Treize said. "More special than _he_ was."

Driven by some emotion Duo didn't care to name, he shoved Treize out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom. He ripped the other man's shirt off and undid his trousers before roughly jerking them down.

"Get on the bed," Duo commanded him. He was shaking in anger, and it was hard to keep his voice steady.

Treize hesitated, and Duo put one hand on his chest and pushed, unbalancing Treize and forcing him to fall backwards.

Duo pulled a condom from the nightstand by the bed and pulled his own pants and boxers down, not bothering to even take off his shoes or shirt.

He didn't bother to prepare Treize. As soon as he was hard enough he put on the condom and slammed into the older man.

Treize groaned, and Duo couldn't tell if it was in pain or pleasure.

Duo set a fierce, bruising rhythm. He felt so much rage and despair, so much anger and disgust, that he wanted nothing more than to bury them inside this twisted man.

But of course, when Duo came a heartbeat after Treize, he still felt those emotions burning inside of him.

Without the adrenaline from the sex, however, he felt even worse. He felt dirty and exposed and so very, very tired.

Treize chuckled and pulled away from Duo.

"Now _that_," he remarked with a satisfied smirk, "is exactly what I've been waiting for."

* * *

><p>Duo was pleasantly surprised to find that Hilde had packed him a lunch Wednesday morning, and when he took his break from ten to eleven, he found a secluded picnic table under an oak tree near the music building.<p>

The weather was finally turning colder, and there was just enough of a crisp bite in the air that Duo's arms turned to gooseflesh.

Still, he welcomed the discomfort.

After last night, feeling _anything_ was a welcome distraction.

Treize had actually invited him to spend the night, after Duo's _performance_, and Duo had been too drained and too disgusted with himself to leave. So he had spent the night sharing Treize's bed, his silk sheets feeling more like barbed wire on his skin than anything else.

That morning, Duo had slipped out before dawn, while Treize was still asleep, and fled to his apartment to shower and discover the lunch that Hilde had made him.

It was amazing how easy it was to not think when he was cleaning toilets, but now that he was alone, outside, eating, it was impossible for Duo to _not_ think about what Treize had said to him last night, and what Duo had done afterwards.

Duo had never even known that Solo was gay, let alone had an interest in any of the students at Clarkson.

He could still remember exactly how cold Solo's body had been when Duo found it, hanging from the ancient, rusty monkey bars in the backyard of their foster home.

That had, not surprisingly, resulted in Duo getting reassigned. Something about having a corpse in their backyard had turned his foster parents off foster care, and they had wanted Duo gone as soon as Solo's body was buried.

Lost in his thoughts and memories, Duo almost didn't see the blonde man walking past him until it was too late.

"Hey – Junior Deputy! Long time no see!"

Quatre stopped and looked over at Duo with a scowl.

"Please stop calling me that. I'm nothing like my father."

Something about his tone gave Duo pause.

"Yeah, okay. No sweat – law enforcement isn't for everyone. Can I call you Streaker instead? Hey, that's not a bad Superhero name, is it?"

Quatre looked around in alarm, but they were completely alone. He cautiously approached Duo.

"The Streaker is a terrible Superhero name," Quatre said as he sat down beside Duo on the picnic bench.

"Yeah," Duo agreed and held out an open bag of chips for Quatre.

The blonde took a few.

"Thanks."

"Sure. Maybe you should be a villain instead? The Streaker works out okay for that."

"Not very intimidating," Quatre argued between chip crunches. "Besides, the Streaker sounds fast – maybe _you_ should go by that."

"I'd have to be naked, though."

"You have enough fans that I doubt there would be too many complaints."

Duo snorted a laugh, but his humor quickly evaporated as he pictured Trant's reaction.

Quatre gasped and then reached out to put a hand on Duo's shoulder.

Angrily, Duo shrugged him off and glared.

"Stay out of my head," he said.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean –" Quatre shook his head. "I'm sorry. I just wasn't expecting –I'm really sorry."

Duo forced himself to think about making coffee – his go to strategy for anger management – and when he could almost smell the scent of fresh coffee he turned back to Quatre.

"Don't sweat it," he told the other man. "Just… learn how to control yourself."

"I am – I mean, I'm trying. And that time I wasn't even listening in – in fact I was very actively _not_ trying to hear your thoughts or feel your emotions. You just got so… dark. You sort of sucked me in."

Duo frowned.

"Well, then I guess _I'm_ sorry."

"Don't sweat it," Quatre told him with a slight smile.

Duo smiled back.

"How about the Flasher?"

Quatre rolled his eyes.

"_No_. I'm not going to go around naked."

Duo sighed theatrically.

"Pity. Well, I've got to get back to work." Duo started to pack up the remains of his lunch.

"Duo, don't you think… I mean, don't you _want_ to do something more?"

Duo arched an eyebrow.

"Than what?"

"Be a janitor?"

"Housekeeper," Duo corrected.

"I've never even seen you on campus before."

"I started yesterday. And yeah, my life's ambition is not to clean up after other people."

"Then why – Duo, you have a gift. You have this incredible power. You could use it to help people."

Duo arched an eyebrow at him.

"How? By cleaning up their shit really, really fast?"

Quatre scowled.

"No – you could be a cop or a firefighter or –"

"No, no thanks. I'm not really the selfless type."

Quatre opened his mouth, no doubt to launch into a tirade, but Duo held up a hand to silence him.

"Quatre, I don't have a gift – I don't have an incredible power. I have this… _thing_ that I can do. It doesn't make me a better person. It doesn't change the fact that I'm a - that I'm a fucking deviant. I'm not like you. I'm not interested in helping other people."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. I'd rather just mind my own damn business."

"What if Hilde were involved? Wouldn't you want to help her?"

"Obviously – but I can't – I can't even help her. Okay? That's how fucking useless I am. I can't even help myself, let alone _her_."

"You weren't like this, before." Quatre frowned and grabbed Duo's arm when he started to walk past him.

"Before?"

"In community service – you cared about other people. You cared about Hilde – and Trowa – and Heero. You tried to –"

"Jesus Christ, man, give it a rest. It was community service. That's over now. Now I'm a fucking janitor, and my _power_ helps me vacuum the auditorium quickly. And caring about other people – come on. You're the one who can read minds. Does anyone _really_ care about anyone but themselves?"

Duo broke free of his grip and stalked off, praying that Quatre wasn't trying to read his mind.

Because Duo _did_ care. He cared about Hilde, she was his best friend, practically his soul mate. And he cared about Trowa – and even Heero. He cared enough to stay away from them and not try to drag them down into the hell that he lived in.

They were, Duo knew, infinitely better off without him.

* * *

><p>TBC<p> 


End file.
